


To You, An Admirer

by Legacy_Scarlettpeony (Scarlettpeony)



Series: The 'To You, An Admirer' Series [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, No Beta, Series 1 canon only, Written during series 1, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-28
Updated: 2008-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 70,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28175880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlettpeony/pseuds/Legacy_Scarlettpeony
Summary: When Gwen accidentally sends love letters to Arthur not only does she fall in love with him but also her entire world is set to change forever.
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Morgana (Merlin)
Series: The 'To You, An Admirer' Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064168
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This series was originally written for LiveJournal between 28/10/2008 - 21/12/2008.
> 
> Title: To You, an Admirer  
> Characters: Merlin, Gwen, Arthur, Morgana, Gaius, Uther, The Dragon et al  
> Pairings: Arthur/Gwen. Merlin/Morgana. Hints of Merlin/Gwen.  
> Rating: T/PG-13  
> Overall summary: When Gwen accidentally sends love letters to Arthur not only does she fall in love with him but also her entire world is set to change forever. Many obstacles stand in their way, especially once Uther finds out. Elsewhere Merlin tries to help Morgana decode a recurring dream prophesising imminent change.  
> Notes from author: Any mistakes are my own here. This was originally set to be a one-off but due to its popularity I planned out a whole story. This was originally inspired by the red herring from Digital Spy: “Gwen writes a love letter to Merlin—but mistakenly sends it to Arthur.”  
> 

It had started with a letter. Very few people knew that. It was one letter and one mistake. There few people in the world who would imagine timid little Gwen finding the courage to write about her feelings to the boy she liked and even fewer people who imagined bold Guinevere worrying over what to put in a letter to anyone, even if it was to the boy she had a crush on.

Yet this was how the whole thing began, one evening in early spring.

Gwen sat at the table by her bed, hand to her mouth, shyly contemplating whether or not she would be able to write down her feelings. They embarrassed her, like a schoolgirl in love. That was how she felt; it was how she always felt when she had a crush.

Eventually she picked up the quill, dipped it in ink and began, for the third time, to draft her enamoured confession.

_I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to write—_

No, thought Gwen.

_You know that I am awkward with words but you are the only one who doesn’t seem to know why. Everyone else knows how I feel, except you. I know it’s just the way you are so I decided the only way to make you understand would be to write it down…_

Gwen stopped to consider what she had written so far. It was hard for her not to chuckle coyly under her breath. She touched her warm cheeks with her cold hands; they were flushed from the emotion. Just say what comes from the heart, she thought. Finally she cleared her throat and went on writing.

_I feel braver safer in putting my feelings to paper. I’m worried what you would think if I said it to you face. Every time I see you I feel all light inside, my blood feels as if it’s burning in my veins…_

That sounds both desperate and stereotypical, Gwen thought. She knew that burning sensation was common and was spoken about all the time in love letters and poetry. She scribbled it out and decided to rephrase:

_Every part of me aches every time I see you smile and that makes me feel all the lighter. It would be an understatement to say that you are the sweetest individual I know…_

“’Understatement’, come on Gwen!” she groaned.

At that moment her father, Tom, popped his head around the door. He had heard her and wondered what was going on. “Are you alright, Gwen?”

Gwen lent over the letter, embarrassed, and smiled, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m perfect, brilliant. I’m just... thinking. Dinner will be on soon. Mushroom soup.”

Tom smiled, “Sounds lovely.”

He left and Gwen took a deep breath. She twiddled the quill between her fingers, feeling too self-conscious to write some of the things in her head. It was no different from when she was face to face with him, backtracking and making a fool of herself. It was not even the thought of Merlin reading it that scared her. It was just her feelings. Even in her diary she never dared write his name.

She pressed the pen to the paper and her nervous hand managed to write the words:

_I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you…_

Once she had written it she felt as if she could write it a billion times. She read over her scribbles again, deciding how to phrase it into the letter. After another moment of contemplation she began writing again, her hand feeling freer:

_I love you. If that comes as a surprise then I have nothing else to say other than I love you._

Her hand now felt loose and she began write more:

_I know I’m not as beautiful like that Cara was or Lady Morgana is but I have always tried best to make you see that I’d do anything for you. I thought you might have guessed after what happened with the chalice but you obviously didn’t see it. I understand why you don’t get it. I sometimes wonder if my love is truly in vain. But I won’t lie to you anymore. I won’t lie. I adore you..._

Now I’m babbling, Gwen thought. She threw the quill down and buried her face in her hands. “He’s going to think I’m a lunatic!”

_You said I wouldn’t know the right man for me if he was standing right next to me, but I do. I love you._

“Now I _really do_ sound like a lunatic!” she muttered.

_I love your good well-meaning nature, your angelic face and your good heart. You could probably do much better but I could never love again. This letter is the only way I could make you see without you thinking I was joking._

She took another piece of paper ready for the final version while she considered what she would say for an ending.

_I’m sorry if this letter came as a surprise to you but the last thing I want to do is embarrass you. If you felt what I felt right now, you’d understand. The thought of you invades my thoughts and dreams. It’s like you’re haunting me._

Another sigh escaped Gwen’s lips.

_If you do not return my feelings, then please just discard it and forget you ever read it. I’d rather you forgot then feel bad and have to explain yourself later. Then I can move on._

_If you do feel the same way then send a reply to me by leaving the note behind the lose brick at the back door of the northwest wing of the castle. I’ll collect it on Friday._

Gwen decided to sign off.

_There are so many things I want to say, but I’ll leave it there._

_Thinking of you, Gwen_

She straight away rethought the putting of her name. This was a confession of love, so should it be anonymous. After all it was a wonderful thing to hear that someone loves you even if you don’t know who it is. There was something more romantic about a _secret_ admirer.

So, she scribbled her name out, and looked at her love letter again;

_I feel braver safer in putting my feelings to paper. I’m worried what you would think if I said it to you face. Every part of me aches every time I see you smile and that makes me feel all the lighter. It would be an understatement to say that you are the sweetest individual I know._

_I love you. If that comes as a surprise then I have nothing else to say other than I love you._

_No, I am not as beautiful as some but I have always tried best to make you see that I’d do anything for you. I thought you might have guessed but you obviously haven’t. I understand. I sometimes wonder if my love is truly in vain. But I won’t lie to you anymore. I won’t lie._

_I love your good well-meaning nature, your angelic face and your good heart. You could probably do much better but I could never love again. This letter is the only way I could make you see without you thinking I was joking._

_I’m sorry if this letter came as a surprise to you but the last thing I want to do is embarrass you. If you felt what I felt right now, you’d understand. The thought of you invades my thoughts and dreams. It’s like you’re haunting me._

_If you do not return my feelings, then please just discard it and forget you ever read it. I’d rather you forgot then feel bad and have to explain yourself later. Then I can move on._

_If you do feel the same way then send a reply to me by leaving the note behind the lose brick at the back door of the northwest wing of the castle. I’ll collect it on Friday._

_Thinking of you always,_

_An Admirer_

Gwen sighed. Her hand was shaking. This was the best she could do. She could write it up neat, seal it and send it on its way. But how would she give it to him without him realising it was her? She needed to give it to someone who could pass it on to him. At first she thought of giving it to Gaius but then quickly reconsidered it. He’d know it was from her, and that would defeat the whole point of her being a _secret_ admirer.

She held the sealed letter up, as if to admire it.

Gwen decided to give it to someone outside of their circle, someone who wouldn’t tell Merlin it was her. She decided she would give it to one of the underling servants who would then pass it onto Merlin without a thought.

She ran her fingers over the seal, almost unwilling to let it go. The thought that Merlin would hold the words she had written in his hands, read it and consider it made her feel all a flutter. Yet despite of her worrying over what he would think all she could do was smile.

*

The next day on her way to tend to Morgana Gwen approached asked one of the young palace servants. He was the cook’s son, only a youngster who served in Arthur’s wing of the castle. If a letter was to be handed on to Merlin without him knowing where it came from, she knew the safest way was to hand it to someone like this. And the boy could hardly refuse; she was the Lady Morgana’s handmaiden, after all.

“Excuse me!” she called to the boy.

He had a bored look on his face as he turned. He had spent the early morning running around after ‘Old George’ – a veteran servant of the old days – and was not in the best mood. “Morning, Gwen.”

Gwen bit her lip as she handed him the letter. “Could you pass this letter to Prince Arthur’s manservant, Merlin? Don’t tell him it’s from me.”

The boy took the letter without thinking anything or saying another word. He looked at it before walking off in the direction of Prince Arthur’s apartments. He knew not to ask questions when higher ranking servants told him to do something as they were the ones that had the ears of their masters. Plus both his mother and Old George would give him a thrashing if they thought he was getting impolite or lazy.

Once the boy was out of sight Gwen had regrets straight away. Even though she had not signed the letter she dreaded to think what Merlin would think when he read the letter. Would he immediately guess it was from her? That was Gwen’s biggest fear. On the other hand anyone else probably _would_ guess it was from her straight away but not Merlin. He was too gullible and modest. Then again, Gwen thought, even if he did guess would that such a bad thing?

These thoughts plagued Gwen as she made her way to work.

“Are you alright, Gwen?” Morgana asked as she walked in holding a fresh bouquet of flowers.

“Oh,” Gwen said, feeling her cheeks blush. “Yes I’m fine, milady. I-I picked some fresh flowers for you. I hope you’ve been sleeping better.”

“Not bad,” Morgana sighed, indicating that she had had yet another rough night. Her bad thoughts were pushed back when she saw Gwen’s face. She tilted her head in amusement and smiled, “Now tell me what’s wrong with you.”

“Me” Gwen squeaked, now bright red. “Nothing’s wrong with me!”

Her mistress chuckled, “That’s funny because if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were smitten.” Gwen bit her lips and looked down. “Merlin, is it?”

The girl looked up again. Determined to hide her already obvious embarrassment she smiled and grabbed a vase, “I’ll get some water for the flowers, shall I?”

As Gwen made her escape Morgana called out to her. “For what it’s worth I think he likes you too.”

“Really...?” Gwen gasped as she spun around and spoke before thinking. She immediately regretted; she had given away her feelings within seconds and felt quite ashamed of Morgana’s teasing smile. Gwen tried to make a recovery in vain. “I-I mean, is that so?” she garbled out.

Morgana nodded, “Yes. You’re a lovely young woman he’d be bad not to. He just doesn’t realise it yet.”


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin was on his way to Arthur’s chambers when the young page boy rushed up to him and handed him the letter. His hands full of Arthur’s tunic and various other things he had been ordered to get. He leaned down so the boy could balance it on top of the pile.  
  
“I was asked to give this letter to you” the boy said.  
  
“Why, is it for Prince Arthur?” Merlin asked, literally trying to keep grip of his work load. “Who asked you to give it to me?”  
  
“I can’t say” the boy said. “She just said to give it to you.”  
  
“So, it was a she?” Merlin said trying to balance what he was carrying over one arm to take hold of the letter. “I’ll take it to Prince Arthur. It's probably one of his female fans.”  
  
He made his way up to Arthur’s chambers, wondering what fun activity he would be set to today. Would it be sword fighting, cleaning boots, or maybe he would have to dress up in the 'official' servants' robes of Camelot again. It seemed that Arthur enjoyed making Merlin look a fool. With his ‘special’ powers that no one other than Gaius (And Lancelot) knew about he already felt enough of a freak without the feather hat.  
  
“There you are” Arthur grumbled. He stood at the door with his arms folded and a scowl on his face. He looked like a wife awaiting her drunken husband’s return from the pub. “I was _this close_ to coming to fetch you again.”  
  
“Sorry, sire” Merlin said swallowing his pride and putting down the objects he had been carrying. “Gaius had me out first thing this morning collecting herbs.”  
  
“And you only just got back?” Arthur questioned, eyebrow raised.  
  
“No, then I got your message saying that you needed me to fetch a clean tunic, a bucket of water and a mop,” Merlin replied.  
  
He looked at the private dining area in the next room.  
  
“Had a party with the other knights last night did you?” he asked.  
  
Arthur stared at him.   
  
Merlin added quickly, “Sire.”  
  
Arthur walked over to inspect the tunic. There was nothing wrong with it. It was spotless. He often wondered how Merlin managed to do all the work that he did without cutting corners. He managed to clean his armour, have his washing done, sheer his sword, pick up his meals and tend to the horses all in one day. On top of that he was also Gaius’s dogsbody, so he was constantly taking people’s prescriptions and gathering things for the medicines.  
  
It had got to a point where Arthur liked to give Merlin more work than needed to be done just to see if he managed to do it, and oddly enough he always did.  
  
Merlin felt a little smug. It was frustrating having no one his own age to talk to about his powers, but it was worth it _just_ to see Arthur’s face when he presented him with brightly poshed armour that would have taken the average servant all night to clean.  
  
“Is everything alright, sire?” Merlin said, biting his lips to avoid a smirk.  
  
Arthur looked at him, “The buttons need more of a polish next time.”  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Yes, sire. I’ll remember that.”  
  
He began to clear away the dining table. Arthur looked down at the objects laid out on the table. It was then he noticed the sealed letter. He picked it up and turned to Merlin, “What's this?”  
  
Merlin popped his head around the door, “I don’t know. One of the page boys gave it to me. He said to give it to you.”  
  
Without another thought Arthur opened the letter.  
  
“Who is it from? It has no name on it.”  
  
“I don’t know, he didn’t say.”  
  
Arthur was used to getting letters from women of the court telling him how wonderful they thought he was. They always went on about how strong, witty and brave he was. Every girl in the kingdom wanted him. He was the most eligible bachelor in the kingdom so it was only to be expected.  
  
He read the letter to himself. It was certainly more forward than most letters he received. As a matter of fact there was a great degree of honesty in the letter, as if repressed feelings had been unleashed. More oddly it wasn’t from anyone he could think of, certainly not Morgana. That was actually a relief to Arthur.  
  
After reading through it a second time he walked into the dining room where Merlin was cleaning and began to read out loud.  
  
“Listen to this,” he said and recited a passage from the letter. “ _I feel safer putting my feelings to paper. I’m worried what you would think if I said it to you face. Every part of me aches every time I see you smile and that makes me feel all the lighter. It would be an understatement to say that you are the sweetest individual I know._  
  
Merlin gave a small snort of laughter. The idea of Arthur being ‘sweet’ was hilarious.  
  
“I knew it” Arthur said laughing as well. “ _You_ wrote it.”  
  
Merlin stopped laughing straight away.  
  
“ _What?_ ”  
  
“You wrote this as a joke, didn’t you?”  
  
“No!”  
  
“I understand” Arthur said, folding the letter up again. “You wanted to get me back for forcing you to wear that silly hat. It’s very funny, Merlin.”  
  
“I _did not_ write that letter,” Merlin protested. “I wouldn’t write something like that as a _joke_.”  
  
Arthur raised an eyebrow. Whether it was a joke or not, whether it was from Merlin or some girl he saw a chance to have a laugh with Merlin over this.  
  
“You mean” he said, trying not to laugh, “You are _serious_ about what you said in this letter.”  
  
“Y- _no_ ,” Merlin squalked. “I told you I didn’t write that letter. It was given to be by one of the page boys to give to you.”  
  
“A likely story,” Arthur said with a smirk. “I have to tell you Merlin this doesn’t come as a surprise to me. After all I am pretty fantastic. I understand if you worship me enough to write,” he cleared his throat in amusement, “ _a_ _love letter_.”  
  
The servant reached boiling point. "I didn't write it!"  
  
“Alright, alright, _who_ did?”  
  
“I don’t know” the servant stated for the last time. “I asked but the page boy didn’t say. He just said that a handmaiden told him to pass it on.”  
  
Arthur unfolded the letter again, laid it out on the table and looked at it.  
  
“Doesn’t it have a name on it?” Merlin asked. “You know, on the inside?”  
  
“No, they just refer to themselves as ‘An Admirer’” Arthur muttered.  
  
He picked up the letter and handed it to Merlin.  
  
“Read it.”  
  
Merlin obeyed. It was a short letter and it only took him a minute to reach it through. He thought the content of the letter was clearly written by someone nursing a serious crush. He'd go as far as to say the person was infatuated. There were times in the passage where he wondered whether the letter-writer was talking about Arthur.  
  
When he finished he handed it back to Arthur.  
  
“What did you find so funny before?” the prince asked.  
  
Merlin shrugged. "What did I find funny, when?"  
  
“When I read out that bit of the letter to you, what did you find so funny?”  
  
The servant bit his bottom lip.  
  
"Tell me!"  
  
“Oh, um, the ‘sweet’ thing,” Merlin confessed. “I-it’s just I wouldn’t describe you as sweet-”  
  
“I'd be worried if you _did!_ ” Arthur joked.  
  
“I just thought it was funny,” he admitted.  
  
He then smiled, “Love is blind, eh?”  
  
Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
“Are you calling me ugly now?”  
  
Merlin quickly looked back to the letter, not wanting to get into _yet another_ argument.  
  
“I think it’s very… moving,” Merlin said. “I mean you can tell the person who wrote it is obviously infatuated. If someone wrote something like this to me I’d be very flattered.”  
  
“I can tell you haven’t received many love letters in your time, have you?”  
  
Merlin shook his head. “No, never. The girls in my village avoided me because they thought I was weird.”  
  
“I can’t imagine why” Arthur said sarcastically.  
  
You have no idea, Merlin thought. “I just think it must be a wonderful think to find out that somebody loves you.”  
  
Arthur looked at him. “Yes, I suppose it would be.”  
  
“The person who wrote this is obviously smitten,” he said. “She writes ‘I love you’ several times.”  
  
“And you don’t think it’s a tad…” Arthur began, twirling his hand as he tried to find the right word, “… _desperate_.”  
  
“Nah,” Merlin said. “I think it’s cute.”  
  
There was a long pause. Arthur pondered over the letter while Merlin stood swinging the broom between his fingers. Finally their eyes met.  
  
“Merlin” said Arthur.  
  
“Hmm”  
  
“The table”  
  
“Oh,” Merlin said looking at the dirty table covered with left over food and wine. “Right, sorry.”  
  
-  
  
Later that day Merlin was running two errands on one route; he was bringing Arthur a jug of wine for he and his good friend Kay while taking some medicine to Morgana for Gaius. He jogged up the stairs and knocked from the outside, remembering the first time he had brought her a prescription and ended up being mistaken for Gwen... as the lady was taking her clothes off.   
  
“Come in,” called a voice.  
  
Merlin went in and found Morgana sitting in front of the mirror brushing her hair. She smiled when she saw him. “Oh, Merlin, what brings you here? Are you here to see Gwen?”  
  
He sighed; ever since they had saved Gwen from being burned as a witch Morgana had firmly believed that his choice to sacrifice himself for her was because he was in love with her. It was a little frustrating, especially since he had never really thought of Gwen that way.  
  
He smiled shyly. “No, no, I was sent by Gaius to give you this.”  
  
Morgana took the bottle and smiled, “Thank you, Merlin.”  
  
He nodded awkwardly before making his way to the door. “Bye then.”  
  
“Merlin, wait a second,” Morgana called to him. “Can I just ask you something?”  
  
Merlin turned on his heel, smiled and bowed politely. “Yes, certainly, milady.”  
  
“I know you feel awkward when I talk to you about Gwen--”  
  
“No, no, I don’t feel _awkward_.”  
  
“You do. I mean there is nothing to be shy about,” she said soothingly. “Everyone falls in love, and I think you should tell Gwen how you feel.”  
  
Merlin began to try and explain that he _was not_ in love with Gwen and that they were just friends but Morgana went on.  
  
“I mean you’d be very lucky to have someone like Gwen,” she said. “And Gwen would be very lucky to have you.”  
  
Merlin stopped, suddenly feeling very flattered.  
  
“Really?”  
  
Morgana smiled. “Yes, you may not realise this but you’re quite a catch. You have integrity and bravery in your heart. That makes you a very nice catch for lots of girls.”  
  
He chuckled modestly. “Well, I wouldn’t say I’m _that_ brave…”  
  
“Don’t be silly,” she said, almost flirting. “Remember that I saw what you did for Gwen. You offered to give up your life for her.”  
  
Merlin almost said that it was not so much bravery as it was guilt at letting Gwen die for something _he_ had done. But then he remembered that Morgana didn’t know about his powers. Nobody did. So instead he cleared his throat and restored himself to his polite "servant's" pose.  
  
“You know,” he finally said. “You don’t have to flatter me, milady.”  
  
“I wasn’t flattering you” she said with a smile. “I’m serious when I say what I say.”  
  
“Oh,” he said, scratching the back of his head, not knowing what to say. “Thank you.”   
  
Elsewhere at that very moment Arthur was on his way to try and find Merlin, who had gone walk about and was once again taking longer than he should be in finishing his tasks. But this was just a cover reason. He told himself he was going to find Merlin and even let himself plot new, inventive ways to make Merlin look like a fool. In reality Merlin was his excuse.  
  
Going down the stairs and towards the northwest wing of the castle where Gaius’s quarters were, Arthur came to the place where the loose stone decribed in the letter was. He stopped and pulled it out. He checked around to make sure no one was watching before he took a note from his pocket and placed it carefully inside.  
  
Then, quickly replacing the loose brick, he made his way in the direction of Gaius’s home to find out where Merlin was.  
  
Back in Morgana's chambers, the lady continued to assure Merlin.  
  
“You know,” Morgana told Merlin. “I know that you don’t pine or need flattery like _some_ men do.”  
  
Merlin smiled; he knew she was talking about Arthur.  
  
“He’s not that bad, really” he told her.  
  
“No,” Morgana said nodding. They were both clearly on an understanding that it was Arthur they were talking about. “I know he’s not. He’s not like you, of course. He's not completely... selfless and sweet. And kind. But you're right, he isn’t completely big headed. I hope you don’t mind my telling you this.”  
  
Merlin shook his head, “No not at all.”  
  
Truth was he thought she was being a bit harsh on him. He suspected that it was Gwen who normally had to listen to these conversations about Arthur and Morgana trying to convince herself that she absolutely _did not_ like Arthur. He wondered how she would react if she knew about Arthur’s secret love letter from a secret lady. It was obviously not from her. Would she be upset? Would she even be bothered? At times Merlin thought that like his feelings for Gwen, Morgana's feelings for Arthur were entirely misplaced. Both were accused of liking people that they liked, just not in _that_ way.   
  
Merlin decided it was time to make an excuse and leave. However Morgana spoke again.  
  
“Merlin, can I tell you something without you getting _jealous_?”  
  
He gave her a sceptical smile.  
  
“Jealous? I’m sure I won’t.”  
  
Morgana leaned closer to him with an almost comprisal smile on her face.  
  
“Between you and me, Merlin, I’ve been having this strange dream all week. It's about the future, maybe eight or ten years into the future. I think it must have been Arthur's coronation because the court was _glittering_. You were wearing fine green robes. But that's not what I wanted to tell you. Guess who Arthur's _queen_ was!”  
  
Merlin pretended to ponder for a moment before answering, assuming his assumption would be the correct one. He couldn't think why he would tell her if it wasn't so.  
  
“Um, _you_?”  
  
He remembered his third night in Camelot when he had saved Arthur and become his servant. Gwen had mentioned that she and everyone at court believed Morgana to be the queen-in-waiting of Camelot. Admittedly Merlin had been a little surprised and ridiculously disappointed by that.  
  
But Morgana pulled a face. "God, _no_! Why does everyone keep thinking that?"  
  
"Who was it?"  
  
She smiled and chuckled. “Gwen.”  
  
Merlin's eyes widened. He almost burst out laughing but instead it came out in an amused squeak.  
  
“What, _Gwen_ was the queen in your dream?”  
  
His surprise may have conveyed the wrong impression to Morgana. She was no doubt telling him this story to see his reaction as if the dream was even real. She wanted to see whether it bothered him or not, the idea of Gwen being with someone else. Arthur, of all people!  
  
“Yes,” Morgana said. “I hope you don’t mind my telling you about the dream.”  
  
“Oh no,” Merlin said shaking his head. “No, it’s an _interesting_ dream.”  
  
Morgana nodded. “Don’t worry, it’s just a dream.”  
  
“Queen Guinevere,” he said to himself. He looked at Morgana, “It _does_ have a ring to it.”  
  
At that moment Arthur strode into the room to find his manservant and Morgana laughing, unbeknownst to him at _his_ expense. He stood with an irritated look on his face. To see his foster sister and manservant together, giggling was like being confronted with the most annoying thing possible because it involved the two most annoying people he knew. When Merlin saw him he quickly cleared his throat and tried to explain himself.  
  
“I was bringing your wine but I promised Gaius I’d do a few deliveries..."  
  
“Oh yes?” Arthur said with his most nasal voice. He looked at Merlin, “When I said ‘Quickly fetch a flagon of wine for Sir Kay and myself’ I meant _quickly_.”  
  
“Yes, sorry” Merlin said, picking up the flagon that he had almost forgotten about.  
  
Arthur looked at it and then at Merlin, “Hurry back with it.” He looked at Morgana and nodded in what he thought was a respectable manner, “Morgana.”  
  
“Arthur” she said, trying to conceal a smile.  
  
As Arthur left Merlin took a deep breath and shook his head. He turned to Morgana and bowed his head politely before heading off back towards Arthur’s quarters. On the way he thought of the idea of Gwen being a queen. It was the sort of thing that would only work in a dream. That was a place where fairytale could happen. Right now the two friends clearly thought Arthur was far too fickle to fall in love with a servant girl.  
  
“The prince and the handmaiden,” he said to himself. “I don’t know if I see it yet.”  
  
-  
  
On Friday afternoon Gwen was walking her home to Morgana’s chambers. In order to do that she had to pass through the northwest wing of the castle. Her heart thumping in her chest she made her way to the back entrance of the castle and pulled out the loose stone in the wall…  
  
Inside there was a message left for her.  
  
She quickly pulled it out, tore it open and read. As she did she smiled.  
  
It was written in a very delicate, educated hand that not many would associate with a manservant. And it was full of very moving, original (if not slightly awkward) phrases not many would associate with the _real_ writer. 


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin whistled as he walked down the stony steps. He wasn't doing it for cheer; it was in a manner that all people did when they were trying to look inconspicuous. Moreover when they were trying to look inconspicuous and were failing miserably. It was an art that Merlin had not yet mastered; all the servants and courtiers watched him as he went past them.  
  
Finally he reached his destination; the loose brick at the back of the northwest wing of the castle. He looked around to check no one was watching before he pulled it out and found a sealed letter from the _secret admirer_ , as there had been for the last six weeks. He took it out and replaced it with the one Arthur had asked him to put there.  
  
Merlin checked around again - worried that someone might disturb the note before the admirer could get it - and once he was convinced no one had seen he replaced the brick in its place. He then made his way off. Arthur had told him to make sure that no one saw him take or leave the note. Convinced he had managed to do exactly this without someone asking him what he was doing, Merlin rushed back the way he had come.  
  
Once again his art of being secretive fell flat.  
  
Merlin had not thought to check behind the pillars or inside the alcoves to see whether anyone was there.   
  
As soon as he was gone Gwen emerged from one of the alcoves close to Gaius's chambers. Unlike him she had the common sense to look around the nooks and crannies as she walked over to the loose brick. She wanted to ensure that no one was spying on her. When she was certain no one had seen either of them (and that Merlin had not seen her) she excitedly pulled out the brick and took the note Merlin had left.  
  
Gwen desperately wanted to open it. She decided the best thing to do was to take it home and read it. She had been doing so for the last _twenty-nine_ letters that had been left there. The first three or four she hadn’t been able to resist tearing it open with her teeth. Now she treated them as if they were a present at Christmas; she wanted to pick at the seal but would always try her best to wait until later.  
  
After their numberous exchanges over the last six weeks Gwen believed that she had come to know the style of her _secret lover_. He had a certain writing style that she had come to love. The awkward thing about his love letters was that as far as Gwen could tell he honestly didn't seem to realise that the love letters were from her. He said as much in nearly every single one of his letters:  
  
 _Your words are sweet and awkward in a manner that I feel is becoming of a_ virtuous _woman. I understand if you're shy. But your silence arouses my curiosity as to who you are. Are you ever going to reveal your name? Am I ever going to know the name of the angel that says all these kind things?_   
  
That was the first time he had asked the question of her identity. Gwen didn't know why she didn't just admit the truth to him. There were several reasons. Firstly, as he had right said she was too shy to tell him the truth yet; the thought of what he would think when she told him frightened her. She knew she wasn't ready; and said so in her last letter, the one before the one Merlin had just taken:  
  
 _I often think of signing my name at the end of my letters—but I always stop myself. I suppose I'm worried about how you will react once you realise it was me all along._  
  
That was another thing that confused her. When she wrote her letters, for some reason, she never pictured telling Merlin face to face. She didn't think of telling Merlin at all...  
  
Gwen walked past her father’s workshop just outside his forge on the way home. He smiled brightly and they waved to each other. She smiled too, knowing that with her father working she could read her final letter in peace. As she got through the front door she ripped open the letter and begun to read:  
  
 _Dear SA_ (Which Gwen knew meant "Secret Admirer") _  
  
I was once again disappointed (To tell you the truth I was vexed) to find that you still do not wish to tell me your name._  
  
 _At first I admit that I was originally just curious to know who it was sending me these letters but now your words are starting to plague my mind. Now I find myself guessing at names all the time. I’m sure your name - your_ actual _name - has crossed my mind a few times because I have considered everyone. I mean everyone. I dare not look any woman in the face for fear that either you will reveal yourself unwillingly to me, or might see me looking and think my attentions to any woman that is not you is more than what it is.  
  
My curiosity is high, love, but I do not want to force you to reveal your identity until you are ready despite my anticipation. _  
  
_Nonetheless I cannot lie about this; that your fear of me_ hurts _. I didn't think that it would matter so much, not knowing the name of someone writing letters but it does. I can understand why you would not wish to reveal who you are because of my position, but it makes me no less a human being and no different from other men. Please remember that I am a just a man._  
  
 _I will not lie to you about this either—I have often considered hiding and waiting for you to leave your letters in our secret alcove, just to see your face. You wouldn't believe how tempted I was to do that the other day. Today, in fact. Then I stopped myself. When I stopped myself I wondered if it is possible to fall in love with someone without having seen them. When I first read your letters, I didn't think so. I believed myself to be too fickle to care about someone knowing how beautiful she was. To be honest I didn't think I_ ever _would fall in love. I always thought I would just marry without love. It is to be expected. I remember in your first letter you said that men could fall in love with a pretty woman easily just by looking at her, but it has never been the case with me. I have never known a woman I wanted to be as close to. I have never been in love before. I haven't found the right person._  
  
 _Yet despite everything that I just said I consider you different. I see you and this situation we have found ourselves in, different. For a long time you had many faces but now you have none. I no longer care what you look like (You could be twice my age for all I care) because I love the way you put things in your letters. I like the way you think. I have begun to think that not knowing your identity is a good thing. Despite the frustration I have over not knowing I think that it will make me a better person. For the first time I feel it possible that I could fall in love with someone and I think I could fall in love with you without ever seeing your face.  
  
Forever curious about you I witter on, SL _(Which Gwen knew meant "secret lover")  
  
That was how they signed on and off. SA was Gwen and SL was him. He never signed his name, instead picking up on something she had said in the second letter she had sent him. She imagined he thought it was more in keeping with the fact they were sending secret love letters. It did make her feel curious, though.  
  
Gwen put the letter down and sighed. She pondered over what he had said; about never having been in love, about falling in love without seeing the person first and his growing belief that it was possible and that he was falling in love with her. If that was true then there was no reason why she shouldn't gain the courage to approach him. It was the maybe that frightened her. She was worried that what she had with "the letter-writer" would be ruined or altered if she saw him now. Besides Gwen had always thought that when the time came she wouldn’t reveal her identity in a letter. She would walk up to him and tell him that it was her that wrote the letters. If it was possible that he could fall in love with the writer of these letters then it was possible that he would love her no matter what.  
  
Yet Gwen still had a nagging feeling in her chest that something didn't add up. She was in denial almost about her doubts, or rather her fears about the letter-writer. But she ignored them.  
  
She decided to write the reply that night despite the fact that she had only just left a letter for him. It was getting to a point where they were sending one every day rather than every other day.  
  
Gwen folded up the letter and tied it up in a ribbon with all the other letters. She then put all the letters she had received into a little wooden box that was given to her as a child by one of her father's wealthy patrons after her mother's death. She kept all her letters in there, tied up with a blue ribbon that had once been tied around a bunch of flowers sent to Morgana by a visiting Duke's son and had been discarded once the flowers began to wilt.   
  
Brushing her fingertips one last time over the quantity of letters written (and the surprising quality of the paper - another nag she was having over the whole thing) she locked the box and placed it under her bed. She knew she had to return to the castle and to tending her mistress.  
  
-  
  
Merlin returned to Arthur’s chambers. The prince was looking out the window over the courtyard below. It was a pleasant day in Camelot and the sounds of the busy castle were drifting in from the open pane. As soon as Merlin walked in Arthur turned and listened as Merlin recited everything that he had been ordered to do, confirmed that he had succeeded in each one. Arthur didn't really care at that moment.  
  
“Good morning, your highness,” Merlin said in a put-on pleasant voice. “I freshly polished your armour last night. I also polished your boots, cleaned your tunic and even used extra polish on the buttons, just the way you like it.”  
  
Arthur took the tunic and looked at it. “No need to be cheeky.”  
  
“I didn’t say anything,” the servant said.  
  
Arthur looked at the tunic. It was perfectly fine. He looked at Merlin with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“What _is_ your secret, Merlin?”  
  
Merlin smiled smugly. "Just pride and dedication to work.”  
  
Arthur scoffed. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were using magic.”  
  
The servant’s eyes widened briefly before he recovered himself.  
  
He chuckled. “I'm flattered you think me smart enough.”  
  
"Note that I said _'If I didn't know better'_ ," Arthur retorted.  
  
Merlin scowled and Arthur smiled. He then suddenly held out his hand expectantly.  
  
“Anything else?”  
  
Merlin stared at the hand before he remembered.  
  
“Oh,” he pulled out the letter from his pocket. “I picked up your latest 'love letter' from your secret girlfriend.”  
  
The prince took the note from Merlin. He opened the letter and began to read it. He slumped into the chair in front of his bureau, rested his fingers over his lips as if he were pondering over something and sat in silence, reading. After five minutes of reading it over and over he had forgotten Merlin was standing there.  
  
Finally the young manservant spoke up.  
  
“Um, do you still need me? Only I promised Gaius I'd do some chores for him…”  
  
Arthur held up a hand to silence him. He was reading the letter over just one more time, and part of him also wanted to irritate Merlin. Finally he looked up and nodded. “You can go, but I expect you back at three.”  
  
“Is there any particular reason?” Merlin asked.  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes.  
  
“I should have known _you'd_ forget, Merlin,” the prince said severely. “The May Day celebrations are upon us. It is a tradition upheld here in Camelot every year with the feast of Beltane and the big May Day party. All the servants are required to help with the preparations. You will be given a brief of your duties this afternoon with the other servants while listening to my father give a speech.”  
  
This was the first Merlin had heard about it. He'd have thought Gwen would remind him but she was off in her own little world these days.   
  
“What form will this big May Day party take?”  
  
“Most of the time it’s just a feast and dance about for all the courtiers to celebrate the coming of spring,” Arthur told him. "Didn’t your village celebrate Beltane?”  
  
“Yes but we all had to dress up in silly costumes and masks and dance around May poles…” Merlin chuckled as he remembered the simplicity of life in Ealdor. It was then that he saw the smirk on Arthur's face. His face merged from smile to reluctance. He groaned, “Please don’t tell me I have to dress up.”  
  
"Yep" Arthur said ironically. He looked down at the letter again. “It _is_ tradition, Merlin.”  
  
“Yes but I’m a servant—”  
  
“All the servants dress up too,” his master replied. "I don’t see why you should be an expectation. Everyone at court really gets into it so if you want to remain popular with your peers I suggest you follow their example.”  
  
Merlin let out another groan as he wandered towards the door.  
  
Arthur went in for the kill. “Oh, before I forget. My bed needs changing and the dogs need exercising.”  
  
As Merlin made his way home to collect the prescriptions that Gaius had asked him to deliver he found himself dreading both the afternoon speech and the prospect that he would have to hurry around the castle carrying out these chores in order to get there in time. He sighed. It seemed that _everyone_ had something wrong with them in the castle at the moment. Lady Erfiddyl had a sore back. Sir Percival had a light-fever. Morgana had her nightmares. Lady Leonora had chest pains. Everyone had problems, even Arthur was taking something for hayfever.  
  
As Merlin walked through the south-wing, the door to Morgana’s room opened and Gwen came out. When she saw Merlin she stopped dead. The sight of him made her blush. She kept thinking about how cheerful he always seemed as he walked along the corridors of the castle and how clueless he looked when she accidently said something she didn’t mean to say…  
  
Of course he wouldn’t have guessed that she was letter-writer. He was too sweet!  
  
“Merlin!” she called cheerfully once she had recovered herself.  
  
He turned around and smiled when he saw her descending the stairs, “Hi Gwen. Are you alright?”  
  
“Fine,” Gwen said, smiling shyly. “You look happy.”  
  
Merlin sighed. “If I do it’s just a front. Between them Arthur and Gaius are playing me like a yoyo.”  
  
“They do give you a lot of work,” Gwen conceded. “N-not that I don’t think you do it well. I'm amazed but how much you manage to get done. Twice as much as me. You always work _so_ hard!”  
  
“Well,” Merlin said, nodding his head with a smile. He felt a little bad given that he cheated with magic while Gwen did everything by hand. “It’s nice to know _somebody_ appreciates what I do, though you without a doubt are the better worker of the both of us.”  
  
“I think what you do for Arthur is great. He’s never had a servant he liked enough to trust with some of the tasks he gives you. He certainly never trusted Gregory with them…”  
  


Merlin pretended to look worried. “If Arthur _likes_ me I hate to think what he does does to the servants he _doesn’t_ like.”

  
Gwen pursed her lips.  
  
“He’s just horrible to them.”  
  
"More horrible than he is to me?”  
  
Gwen nodded.  
  
Merlin nodded in return.  
  
“Fair enough, he hasn’t thrown knives at _me_ yet.”  
  
The pair of the laughed as they remembered that day; it had been the first time that Merlin had met Arthur. It was also the first day either her or Arthur had seen Merlin. She still remembered how she had admired the way Merlin stood up to him. Before she had met him she thought most men were like Arthur and his smug friends, a load of bullies. She thought sometimes that Arthur had felt some level of respect for the fact that Merlin stood up to him.  
  
Gwen sighed. She was thinking a lot about Arthur too these days and she didn't know why. She seemed to keep reminding herself that (Unlike Merlin who had so much about him) the only redeeming feature that Arthur had was his looks. Even Gwen was willing to admit that Arthur was handsome. Very handsome. Beautifully handsome. _Annoyingly_ handsome, she thought. He was the sort of handsome that _knew_ it was handsome.   
  
So handsome it made her _teeth_ hurt…  
  
Sometimes Gwen understood perfectly Morgana’s infuriation with Arthur. He was _infuriating_! If she compared him to Merlin, well, they’re _completely_ different. Arthur was arrogant while Merlin was humble. Arthur seemed to certain of things while Merlin seemed to be searching for his purpose. They were night and day, really.  
  
Merlin… There was warmth that seemed to surround him. It was in the way he spoke, the way he smiled and the way he cared about people.  
  
If only he was a little wiser, Gwen thought. Unfortunately her silence had started to get awkward and noticeable. Merlin even waved his hand in front of her face.  
  
Gwen realised she had been day dreaming.  
  
“Sorry?”  
  
“Are you okay?” Merlin asked.  
  
“Fine”  
  
“Was there something you wanted?” he asked.  
  
It was then she remembered. “Oh, sorry! The Lady Morgana has a headache and wonders if you could ask Gaius for something to relieve it.”  
  
“Sure,” he said with a smile. He was just about to leave when he quickly turned around, suddenly concerned. “She is alright, isn’t she?”  
  
“She’s fine,” Gwen said. He knew he was thinking about what had happened with Edwin; how Morgana had nearly died, how Gaius had been forced to leave, and how Edwin had tried to kill Uther as well. It was a few weeks ago now but - still. She matched his concern at times. “It’s just a headache.”  
  
“Good,” Merlin said, and he smiled again. “We don’t want _that_ happening again, do we? Tell her I’ll be back soon with the painkiller.”  
  
“I will,” she said as he walked off.  
  
Gwen brought her hands to her mouth in embarrassment. She kicked herself for spacing out _right in front of him_. As she walked back towards Morgana’s room she wondered whether she should have hinted to him that it was her that was writing the letters but she stopped herself. It didn't feel right somehow.  
  
Besides she wanted to be completely sure before she told him the truth.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur re-read the letter he had written over and over before he dared seal it. He was always worried that he would make a mistake, sound impatient or something else that might make this girl feel all the more frightened about telling him the truth about who she was. He was _very_ anxious now.  
  
_To You SA,  
  
I hope you will not be angry when I tell you my eyes have been wandering about trying to find you again. I confess my curiosity about you grows more and more fierce every day. I have been looking at every woman’s face once again trying to find some trace that one of them is you. Every lady, every servant, and even people in the street. It's like I seem to think that I’ll see you and I’ll know it is you. You may think it's strange SA, but I keep thinking that._  
  
_Yet I am still finding this mystery about you comforting. I never know when you are watching me. I never know when you are in the same room as me. It is comforting, and exciting at the same time. I have never been so in the dark as I am about you. Never has a woman known more than me and had control over me like you do now. I admit that sometimes I worry that you do it for fun, and that you enjoy tormenting me… but then I read your letters and I realise that you truly are scared of what I will think.  
  
That is what concerns me -- I don’t know which worries me more. I know my reputation might worry you as well as my position – I have said so many times – but I am a human. I have never felt so enthralled with anyone as I am with you, and I don't even know your name. Imagine how enthralled in you I could be if I did know. __You have nothing to fear from me. I am of a predilection that within time that you will realise my earnestness. I swear on my ever-growing affection for you that it is true. As true as the terrible poetic language I am trying to use now in this letter. That is language I_ never _thought I would use. I hope you don't mind my inadequacy._  
  
_The only thing that would make this poetry (For what it is) complete is if I could put your name to it, and to be able to write it whenever I write you a letter._  
  
_I have to stop writing now as the May Day meeting is imminent. I'll probably see you there though, of course, I won't know, will I? So until your next letter I will wait anxiously to hear from you again._   
  
_SL_  
  
Arthur let a nervous sigh escape his lips. He hope that would be alright and that she wouldn't be offended by him admitting to looking for her again. Or at other women to try and see if they were her. He was starting to worry he'd soon be getting some unwanted attention from the ladies of the court. And the servant girls were probably worried that they were next on his 'To Do' list. Not that he had such a thing, despite the rumours that went about these days.  
  
He pondered all this as he waited for the red wax to heat up so he could seal the letter. He always had to check to make sure that the letter contained nothing that would frighten or worry the mysterious girl behind the letters. As he poured the wax on and pressed the seal against it he was once again tempted to wait and see who the girl was. Or at least have Merlin spy on the secret alcove and find out.  
  
He didn’t know what was stopping him.  
  
At first he thought it _was_ fear of the letter-writer and what she would look like. Now it was because Arthur wanted to know her name but he wanted to be face to face with her when he did find out. He didn't even want her to just tell him in the letters. He wanted her to walk up to him and say "It's me!" He wanted to look into her eyes and see all the words she wrote down in there. Most of all he wanted to know the face of the woman so he could _think_ about her. All he could ever picture was a letter, and the girl’s face kept changing to every face of every courtier and servant in the castle. Though most ofthe time it was just the back of her head he saw. It always seemed to be someone with dark wavy hair... which accounted for at least half the women at court.  
  
Arthur knew he could be completely wrong. She could be a redhead or a blonde. Guiltily, he hoped she was a brunette (and not to sallow) although he felt it wouldn't be the end of the world if she wasn't.  
  
He wanted to know so that he could kiss her. He had never been so desperate to kiss anyone before. the only way he felt, that the girl would realise that he really didn’t care who she was. He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t care. Arthur was _really_ beginning not to care; all he wanted to do was know who she was.  
  
Leaving the note tucked away safely behind some papers, Arthur got up to go and see his father; he wanted to talk to him before the meeting. He wondered if he should tell his father about it all. He would be furious and demand the writer come forward.  
  
Arthur had felt, for a long time, that his father had hoped that one day Morgana would become the queen. It seemed so simple. Still, that didn’t mean that Arthur couldn’t be in love with someone else. Plenty of marriages had been loveless especially between kings and queens. At least their marriage wouldn’t be completely loveless as, despite everything, they were friends. Uther might see some reason in that arrangement.  
  
Then again it wouldn’t be the end of the world if the girl were a courtier. But what if she wasn’t?  
  
It was too early to be thinking about that.  
  
Arthur decided it was best to stay quiet. He hadn’t told any of his friends about it because he knew it would get back to his father if he did. He also felt, deep down, that it was personal to him. Sometimes he felt Merlin really was the only person in the world that he could trust. The only one he knew wouldn’t tell…  
  
Arthur had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t seen one of the handmaidens walking towards him, arms full of sheets and pillows for her mistress. He collided right into her, sending the objects flying and her tumbling to the ground. Arthur rolled his eyes as she scurried around picking up things and apologising profusely.  
  
“I am so sorry,” she kept saying. “Very, very sorry…”  
  
Arthur recognised the voice; he looked down and saw that it was Gwen. She, in turn, seemed to recognise the feet and looked up straight away. She gasped, “Prince Arthur!” and quickly looked down again, “Excuse me, your highness.”  
  
He sighed, “It’s alright.”  
  
Quickly standing, Gwen gave a little bow and walked off in the direction she was going. Arthur watched her go before carrying on his way. The irony of the situation escaping both of them, as neither had any idea of the significance of that short meeting.  
  
-  
  
Merlin was running late with his errands, which was making him later for the meeting that Arthur told him about. Not that he was looking forward to it; he just didn’t want Gaius to get angry at him, again.  
  
He had managed to get Lady Edna the ointment for an allergic reaction to a new in-fashion dress she had recently bought; Sir Kay the pain killer for an injury he sustained in battle with a group of bandits just outside of Camelot, and he also gave to Sir Gerraint and Lady Cap-Rogue's son, Leon. Finally he had dropped off some ear-drops for Lady Agnes. The only thing left was the remedy for Morgana’s headache.  
  
Merlin pelted down the corridor towards her rooms, hoping to drop them off without being too noticeably late for the meeting and too late to catch up without asking someone. He thought this would be easy as Morgana should be going to the meeting Uther planned for all the nobility.  
  
He got to her room and just opened the door, in too much of a hurry to think of knocking, and ran straight into Morgana. He managed to stop himself before he knocked her over or himself over. The two of them stood still for a moment while Merlin caught his breath.  
  
Morgana looked at him, “Are you alright, Merlin?”  
  
He nodded and breathlessly handed her the remedy, “Here.”  
  
Morgana took the medicine, which was tea made of willow, and nodded. Without dismissing him she went over to the table and poured out some to drink. It wasn’t the nicest taste in the world but it normally did the trick. She felt a terrible thumping in her temples after the dream she had had. She even considered asking Gaius about it. Maybe he could up her dosage a little bit to cure her nightmares?  
  
“Merlin,” she said turning to the young servant. He stood to attention and smiled, finally having caught his breath. “Could you tell Gaius that I wish to see him when you go home tonight?”  
  
Merlin nodded, “Yes, I’ll tell him. Are you alright? Only Gaius is worried about you after what happened…”  
  
Morgana smiled, “I’m fine, Merlin. You can tell Gaius to stop worrying.”  
  
“Well, it’s not just Gaius who worries…”  
  
What happened to her was unquestionably frightening, being a pawn in an embittered wizard’s revenge, Moreover Edwin had not just tricked her; everyone had been duped.  
  
“You can tell _everyone_ to stop worrying,” Morgana said, taking more of her medicine. “Aren’t you going to this meeting, then?”  
  
It was only then that Merlin remembered. “Y-yeah, I _should_ be there right now. I didn’t think you’d be here. I know the king is holding a meeting as well.”  
  
“Oh, it’s nothing really,” Morgana sighed, rubbing the sides of her head, “It’s just a bit of pompous circumstance. It's what us people in Camelot do best.”  
  
“Yeah, I noticed,” Merlin said under his breath but Morgana obviously heard. He quickly made up an excuse for his loose tongue, “Sorry, I’ve never been to one of these big meetings. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”  
  
Morgana smiled, “Don’t worry about it. If I were a servant I wouldn’t bother but since your Arthur’s servant…”  
  
“I’ll end up with fruit and vegetables thrown at me,” Merlin finished. Then in chorus both of them said, “Again.”  
  
Looking at each other they laughed.  
  
Merlin pointed to the door, “Well, I better get off before I end up in trouble again.”  
  
“It wasn’t your fault last time,” Morgana quickly said.  
  
Merlin turned and smiled again before leaving.  
  
Outside the door he took a deep breath and leant against it with his eyes closed.  
  
_Morgana was still having dreams?_  
  
So like Gaius said that business with Arthur and Sophia was not the only time. She saw things all the time, she as good as admitted it to him. And she always had been seeing these things, ever since she was a little girl. She was born that way, just like he was.  
  
Gaius told him several times that _no one_ was like him but that didn’t matter to Merlin. She was at least _like_ him in the sense that she had to hide what she saw in her dreams from people lest they accuse her of witchcraft. Everything they both did was for the good of people and yet they would both be burnt if anyone knew. Someone else lived in that fear just like him.  
  
She was like him, and that meant _everything_ to Merlin.  
  
All he wanted was someone to talk to about it, someone the same age as him. Gaius helped him but he didn’t understand how isolated he felt. Maybe if Gaius told her or he told her that he knew about her seeing power?  
  
He only wished, wished, _wished_ that Morgana could see him for what he was…  
  
Morgana opened the door to her room.  
  
Merlin fell backward before he knew what was happening. His head smacked against the floor with a painful thud at Morgana’s feet. She let out a small scream, surprised to see him still there, before getting down on her knees to check there was no damage.  
  
“Merlin,” she said holding his head; “are you alright?”  
  
“Ow,” was all the young servant could groan, lying in pain with his eyes shut tight in embarrassment.   
  
  
-  
  
  
“What happened to him?” Gaius said checking Merlin’s head for any damage.  
  
“He was leaning against the door,” Morgana explained. “I opened it and he fell backwards. It was an accident.”  
  
“Ow,” Merlin whimpered again as Gaius touched where the bump on the back of his head was. He noticed that Merlin’s arm was also bruised. “How did he do this then?”  
  
Morgana then explained, much to Merlin’s embarrassment, that once she had managed to get him to his feet he had told her that he was fine. Merlin had turned to go but then tripped going down the stairs and fell awkwardly on his side. Thankfully he had only hurt his arm and leg.   
  
"After that I felt compelled to walk him back here," Morgana finished. "Just to make sure he got safely here."  
  
Gaius chuckled and looked down at his charge, “Is there no end to your clumsiness and stupidity?”  
  
“Probably not,” Merlin said before letting out another ‘ow.’  
  
Morgana smiled at him before looking at Gaius, “I thought I’d better make sure he got back all right without…”  
  
“Falling over again?” Merlin finished.  
  
She nodded, realising she had nothing more to say. Morgana muttered that she should get back and turned to leave. Bu then she remembered, since she was there, “Oh Gaius. I’ve been having more troubled nights…”  
  
Before Morgana had finished her utterance Gaius handed her the sleeping draft, “I made it a little bit stronger this time. It should do the trick. If it doesn’t then come back and tell me.”  
  
“If you don’t mind,” she said quietly, weary of Merlin. “I want to talk to you about… _you know_.”  
  
Gaius agreed, “I’ll be here later.”  
  
Morgana glanced at Merlin before leaving. Once she had, Merlin spoke up: “Why couldn’t she tell you now?”  
  
“She’s always been worried about her dreams,” Gaius explained. “And for good reason; she’s probably worried that Uther might find out if anyone else knows about it.”  
  
“Does ‘anyone else’ mean me?” Merlin asked. “But I know about her dreams, she even told me about one – not that it was very believable – but I’d never tell anyone…”  
  
“But she doesn’t know that,” Gaius reminded him.  
  
Merlin sat silent for a moment while Gaius continued tending to his bump.  
  
“Maybe if I told her—”  
  
“No,” the old man said bluntly.  
  
“You don’t know what I was going to say.”  
  
“You were going to say ‘Maybe if she knew about my powers, she’sdtrust me,’ weren’t you?”   
  
The young warlock said nothing.   
  
Gaius went o, “No, Merlin, no one can find out about you just as surely they can’t find out about Morgana.” Merlin sighed. His friend put a hand on his shoulder, “I am sorry Merlin but I can’t risk anyone finding out about you, _either_ of you. If Uther found out—”  
  
“I know,” Merlin said, “he’d burn us. He’d probably make it a double execution to save on wood.”  
  
“It’s not funny, Merlin.”  
  
“I know it isn’t but it’s the reality I face every day.”  
  
Rubbing his head and stretching Merlin pulled himself to his feet.  
  
“Going back to work?” Gaius asked.  
  
“Yep,” the young warlock replied. “I have to walk Arthur’s dogs, change his bed and probably drop off a love letter to his girlfriend…”  
  
“Girlfriend?” Gaius asked.   
  
Merlin rolled his eyes.  
  
_"Long story."  
_   
  
\-   
  
  
Gwen sat looking out the window of Morgana’s room.  
  
From there she could see the courtyard. Her heart leapt as she saw Merlin rush across the square towards Arthur’s chambers. Seeing him made Gwen wonder what she would write in her letter that night. She felt that recently she always seemed to say the same thing. Now Gwen wanted to say something personal.  
  
_Maybe I should talk about this moment_ , she considered. _Looking out the window and seeing him down there…  
_  
The door opened. Gwen stood and greeted Morgana with a smile. “Is everything alright, milady?”  
  
“Fine,” Morgana replied. She noticed Gwen seemed a little distracted, “Are you alright?”  
  
Gwen nodded, “Yes, I’m fine.”   
  
  
\-   
  
  
The May Day celebrations were one of the most eagerly awaited on the calendar for the court as it allowed them to let their hair down, have a drink and, in the true sense of spring, indulge in the wondrous sport of courtly love. What made it all the more wonderful was that everyone dressed up and wore masks, enabling people to romance other people they would not usually find the courage to do.  
  
Even the servants, (without whom it would not be possible), enjoyed the celebrations because as well as serving they were able to gossip about which lady was being accosted by which sir. Moreover they were able to eat and drink as much wine as they wanted, provided they got up on time the day after.  
  
The meetings, however, were always boring and yet Uther always had one held so that courtiers and servants knew what was happening, or rather, what the servants knew what they were doing.  
  
Once the meeting was over Arthur went over to his father, his face unimpressed that in the sea of servants Merlin’s was not to be sited.  
  
“Where is Morgana?” Arthur asked.  
  
Uther looked at him, “I was going to ask you that.” He turned and saw Gwen just about to leave, “ _Girl!”_ he called, “Where is the Lady Morgana?”  
  
“She was suffering from a headache earlier, your highness,” she said. “I suppose she decided not to come because of that.”  
  
Uther waved her off. Gwen made a small bow and glanced at Arthur before leaving. Arthur watched her go before turning to his father. sat down on his throne  
  
"I hope she's alright," said the king as he sat down on his throne. “After what happened to her last time…”  
  
“She’ll be fine, father,” Arthur said, before reminding him. “The only reason she fell sick in the first place was because of magic.”  
  
“Nonetheless I think I will visit her later, make sure she is well,” Uther said. He then changed the subject, “How did this year’s meeting go, do you think?”  
  
“These speeches become less and less popular every year; several people haven’t bothered to turn up, including Merlin.”  
  
“Your servant is one of the most incompetent boys I have ever had the misfortune to meet,” the king grumbled. “It’s a wonder he managed to save you from that witch's blade.”  
  
“He has his uses,” Arthur said, defending the very servant he often yelled at and made fun of. “He is a good companion and a good servant, even if he is a bit of an idiot. He probably got held up running errands for Gaius.  
  
Uther rolled his eyes, “He _probably_ fell over, hit his head and forgot all about it.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin walked into Arthur’s chambers later that evening, rubbing his head and carrying the new bed sheets that Arthur had asked him to get. He realised that he was late again but that was mainly because Arthur’s dogs had been dragging him all over the city. One of them ran off and Merlin had been crawling around in the forestry area next to the city looking for it.  
  
As soon as he stepped in the door he came face to face with his master’s drunken-husband-wife face, scowling its worst. Merlin smiled and held up the bed sheets.  
  
“I remembered what you told me about changing your bed,” he said. “And I took the dogs for a walk.”  
  
“Hmm,” Arthur said, unimpressed. “Too bad you forgot the meeting.”  
  
“What meeting?” Merlin asked, before suddenly remembering. “Oh, _that_ meeting… well… it’s a long story. I was on my rounds and I… fell through a door as someone was opening it and I, err, hit my head.”  
  
Arthur couldn’t help sniggering at his servant’s misfortunes. It seemed that trouble followed Merlin everywhere.  
  
“And whose door was it you had the misfortune of falling through?” he asked.  
  
“Lady Morgana’s” Merlin said, rubbing the place where he had hit his head again.  
  
Arthur laughed again, “Oh dear, well, she’ll never let you hear the end of it.”  
  
“No, she was fine about it,” Merlin explained, smiling. “She even walked me back home because after that bump on the head I fell down the stairs…”  
  
Arthur kept laughing, “Oh Merlin, _this_ is why I keep you around – just to hear of your misadventures. I don’t blame Morgana for feeling the need to walk you back; you’re a risk to yourself and society.”  
  
Merlin glared at him before turning to the bed to strip it of its sheets, “I’m your servant, not the court jester.”  
  
“True,” Arthur said, finally stopping his mocking sniggers. “But we do need a court jester, so don’t feel compelled to be anything other than you.”  
  
Merlin sighed. He didn’t mind being laughed at because even he could see the error of his ways at times and how clumsy he was. The thing that got him was the fact that often his reasons for ending up in the stocks were because of Arthur. He dreaded to think what would happen once the girl writing to him agreed to meet him. He’d probably end up in the stocks every day for the next fortnight, until the girl realised what a prat Arthur was, broke his heart, and he moved on to the next girl.  
  
What made it worse was that Arthur and Uther owed their lives to him, _both of them_ , and yet they could never know because it would cost him his life. The lack of gratitude was annoying but tolerable. Merlin kept telling himself that Arthur had to be king someday… a horrible thing to think of Uther’s death and Arthur’s subsequent reign, but the dragon kept telling him that his time would begin only when Uther’s ended.  
  
“Merlin,” Arthur said after a while. Merlin looked up and was handed another letter. He rolled his eyes and put it in his pocket while Arthur explained. “It’s not a long one but I’d be grateful if you deliver it for tonight. I want her to get it by tomorrow.”  
  
“How do you know she’ll check for it in the morning?” Merlin said, putting on the new sheets.  
  
“Because she told me,” the prince replied. He then scowled, “Anyway, it’s none of your business what she wrote to me.”  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes again and nodded, “Pardon me for breathing, sire.”  
  
“I’ll forgive you this time.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Merlin said that with a hint of sarcasm that did not go unnoticed. Arthur glanced at him over his shoulder. Suddenly he declared, “I feel like going for a walk this evening in the town.”  
  
“Oh, any reason why?” the servant asked.  
  
“Not especially,” Arthur said. “I just feel like a walk.”  
  
Merlin nodded, “Good for you, sire.”  
  
“You’re coming too.”  
  
“Huh”  
  
Arthur threw Merlin a sheaf with a short sword in it; he caught it and looked at his master clueless. “We’re on patrol,” he said. “That’s why.”  
  
“What do you mean ‘we’?” Merlin said. “Where do _we_ come into this?”  
  
“Well, I’m on guard patrol, and as my manservant you have to come too,” Arthur explained.  
  
“ _Have_ to?” Merlin asked.  
  
“Yes, because _I_ say you have to come,” the prince explained.  
  
“I’ll have to tell Gaius I’ll be home late then,” Merlin said to himself.  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes, “For goodness sake, Merlin, he’s your guardian not your mother! Be back in five minutes. I’ll meet you in the courtyard.”  
  
-  
  
Morgana looked at herself in the mirror as Gwen took her hair down. People said that she looked like her mother but she wouldn’t know. Her parents had died when she was very young and, as Uther’s closest friends, he was the only father she had ever known. He was a terrifying father at that. It was no wonder Arthur was such an idiot at times.  
  
“Gwen” she said softly, the maidservant made a sound of acknowledgement, busy taking down the long locks of dark hair. “Have you ever noticed something strange about Merlin?”  
  
“Merlin” Gwen said, her cheeks flushing. “What do you mean by ‘strange’?”  
  
“I mean… different” she replied. “Not in a nasty way I mean… have you ever felt that he knows more than he lets on?”  
  
Gwen smiled, “Yes. Everyone thinks he’s stupid but he isn’t. I remember when my father fell ill with that plague and he recovered. Merlin came to me and asked if he was better before I’d told anyone.”  
  
Morgana turned around, “Really?”  
  
She nodded and chuckled affectionately, “He said he was psychic.”  
  
Morgana turned back to look in the mirror again. She closed her eyes and thought of that day they fought the Afanc. It just seemed to catch fire from Arthur’s torch. It was Merlin who had told him to use the torch. When she looked further into that memory she saw the fire burning in a pair of shining yellow eyes.  
  
She opened her eyes.  
  
From the window they both heard the sounds of horse hooves on the cobles. Morgana stood to have a look and Gwen followed. Outside they saw Arthur mount his horse, and wait impatiently in the courtyard. Finally, Merlin emerged from the castle and approached Arthur.  
  
Morgana sighed, “Looks like they’re on guard duty.”  
  
She came away from the window while Gwen watched as Arthur seemed to argue with Merlin who seemed reluctant to climb on a horse.  
  
She turned around to see Morgana already in bed and smiling. “I don’t need anything else, Gwen. You go home.”  
  
Gwen nodded, bid goodnight and made her way down to the courtyard also. Before she left she stopped by the secret alcove. She didn’t think a letter would already be there, but it was. Tucking it into her bag she walked around to the courtyard but Arthur and Merlin had already gone.  
  
Taking one last look at the window where she had stood just ten minutes ago, she lifted her red hood over her head and made her way home through the dark streets of the lower quarters of the city.  
  
-  
  
“All of that fuss just to get on a horse?” Arthur said as they rode along the streets of Camelot. “You’re not afraid of them, are you?”  
  
“No, it’s not that. It’s just this horse,” Merlin explained. “Everyone has likes and dislikes.”  
  
“What has that horse ever done to you?” the prince asked.  
  
“Whenever I am in the stables he pushes me.”  
  
“Don’t be stupid, Merlin.”  
  
“I’m not, he’s always shoving me.”  
  
“What about unicorns, do you like them?”  
  
“I like _them_ ,” Merlin said. “They’re completely different.”  
  
“How are they _completely_ different?” Arthur asked. “What is it other than a glorified horse? It’s just a horse with a horn on its head.”  
  
“They’re mythical” Merlin said. “A horse is just a horse. They’re all very nice and everything but I’m frightened of riding too fast on them because it might rear up or bite me or…”  
  
“You _must_ have hit your head hard,” Arthur hissed and shook his head, “Merlin, you never seize to amaze me.”  
  
Merlin stopped and jumped off, “I think I’m going to walk.”  
  
The prince chuckled, “You’ll have to hold the horse’s neck if you don’t ride on his back, you know.”  
  
When Merlin hesitated, Arthur rolled his eyes and climbed off himself, taking both horses. He rubbed his arm, slightly embarrassed by the situation and tried to ignore talking about it. The city was almost in complete darkness with only a few faint lights shining.  
  
Eventually Arthur turned to one of the other guards on patrol and left the horses with him. The pair of them walked off alone down one of the poorer streets in the area. Arthur mockingly threw an arm around Merlin’s shoulders, and put on his most mocking voice.  
  
“You know, Merlin,” he said. “Sometimes animals can sense that something is wrong with a person. They are extra sensitive. Maybe that’s why horses don’t like you.”  
  
“Not _all_ horses, just _that_ one, and a few others” Merlin insisted. “Look, shouldn’t we be on patrol?”  
  
Arthur let Merlin go and rubbed his hands together, “Nothing much ever happens on patrol. The odd robbing, the odd troublemaker; the odd loose woman… the sort of thing you’d expect down here.”  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. He gave up studying more of his book of magic to come out and walk around the streets at night doing nothing.  
  
“You know, Merlin,” Arthur said. “It just occurred to me how innocent to real life you seem to be.”  
  
“What do you mean ‘innocent’?”  
  
“Merlin, have you ever had a sweetheart?”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“A female who was more than a friend that you spoke with, had fun with, maybe took back to your cottage,” Arthur said, spelling it out.  
  
“No,” he said. “I told you the girls in my village thought I was strange.”  
  
“And I suppose you’ve never encountered a woman of loose morals before,” Arthur asked. “Or robbers, I bet your village didn’t see many robbers.”  
  
Merlin shook his head, “Not really, you just didn’t see that sort of thing in Ealdor.”  
  
Two men walked slowly passed the two young men, watching them go before disappearing down another ally. Arthur ignored them and put his arm around Merlin again, “That’s why I think this patrol will be an education for you, Merlin. You see—”  
  
Someone who had been coming off the main street and onto the backstreet bumped into Arthur. They were so close they could smell each other; he of royalty and metal, she of old wool and candle wax. The two of them met each others eyes, and straight away recognised each other.  
  
“Your highness” Gwen said, clumsily. She noticed Merlin and smiled. She looked at Arthur again, “Excuse me.”  
  
She made her way towards the other backstreet and walked down it. Arthur turned to Merlin and pointed. “Bumping into me is becoming a habit of Guinevere.”  
  
Merlin watched her go before answering, “Is it?”  
  
He nodded, “She did it the other day.”  
  
“Well,” Merlin said. “She is a servant in the place where you live.”  
  
They both turned to keep walking. Arthur spoke again, “She’s quite pretty I suppose.”  
  
“Who,” Merlin said. “Gwen?”  
  
“Who else would I be talking about?” Arthur snapped. Then he remembered something, “Wait a minute, isn’t she your girlfriend?”  
  
Merlin looked at him, “No, why does everyone keep thinking that?”  
  
“You offered to be killed to save her life.”  
  
“ _That_ was just being a good friend,” Merlin replied, almost saying that he was the one who had cured Gwen’s father. Not that Arthur would have believed him. “It’s no different from me going into the stocks to cover for you every week.”  
  
“Oh have they started throwing knives at you now?”  
  
There was a scream.  
  
The two men looked at each other; it was coming from the direction Gwen had gone. They heard it again. Arthur drew his sword and rushed towards the ally way, with Merlin in pursuit.  
  
The two men who had passed them before were attacking her; one had her pinned down while the other tried to take her bag. Gwen was holding onto it for dear life; it had her money and her letter in it, and no robber was taking it away from her.  
  
Arthur pushed aside the man who was trying to take the bag. He toppled over across the muddy stone pavement. He dragged the man who had her pinned down off her and shoved him hard against the wall, twisting his arm and making him cry out in pain. The man tried to resist but he was only a common thief, not a trained knight and prince of the realm.  
  
Merlin saw Gwen lying helplessly on the floor, trying to regain control of the situation she was in by pulling herself to her feet.  
  
“Run!” Merlin shouted to her.  
  
Pulling herself up she saw Arthur struggle with the man he had dragged off her. The prince turned to look at her.  
  
“Do as he says. _Run_!” he grunted.  
  
Gwen took this as is it were an order. She grabbed her bag, and she scurried off like a frightened cat down the end of the ally and away.  
  
The man who had been thrown aside advanced on her and Arthur. Merlin spotted a loose stone in the wall above them. He focused on it and whispered an incantation to it. The stone broke loose in a great explosion of power and landed hard on the man’s head.  
  
Finally the royal guards turned up and apprehended the two thieves. Arthur rushed off in the direction Gwen had fled while the guards turned to Merlin as they pulled the unconscious thief to his feet.  
  
“What happened to this one?” one asked.  
  
“Err, that stone came loose from the wall…”  
  
“That was a bit of luck, wasn’t it?” the guard said, dragging him off.  
  
Elsewhere Arthur came out onto another main street and looked around for Gwen. He wanted to make sure she was alright. One thing he had learnt from frequently saving damsels in distress was that they normally hung around, waiting for him to check if they were alright – and he hated to disappoint.  
  
Gwen was nowhere in sight. He couldn’t hear any weeping or cries. Deciding that she must have run home, he sighed and turned back to find Merlin. As he turned the door just right of him opened and Gwen popped her head out.  
  
“Thank you, sire,” she said, her head down. “You saved me.”  
  
Arthur put his hands on his hips and walked closer to the light of Gwen’s house shining onto the street. “You should know better than to wander around alone down the back allies of Camelot at night. Are you alright?”  
  
She looked up and nodded, “Yes. I stayed quite late tonight at the castle tonight. I wanted to take a short cut home.”  
  
Arthur nodded, “In any case be careful in the future.”  
  
“I will” she said, managing to smile.  
  
At that moment Merlin ran up. As soon as Gwen saw him she smiled. He looked at her and waved, “Hi there, are you alright?”  
  
“I just asked her that, Merlin” Arthur said. “She’s fine.”  
  
Gwen nodded in agreement. Merlin smiled and turned to Arthur, “Good. The watch guards want to talk to you.”  
  
Arthur nodded, glanced one last time at Gwen and made his way back towards where the guards were. Merlin turned to her and came closer to the door. “Are you alright?”  
  
“I said so, didn’t I?” Gwen said, smiling.  
  
“No, Arthur said so.”  
  
“Well, I am fine.”  
  
Merlin nodded and headed off back the way Arthur had gone, “Well, night then.”  
  
“Goodnight,” Gwen said softly, and she closed the door without a sound.


	6. Chapter 6

_To You,_  
  
_I have already read your last letter many, many times. I’ve lost count how many. I look in it to check that what you have written is what I read. I look at it as if my mind is playing tricks on me, as if what I read cannot be true. Then I read it for the hundredth time and I realise that it truly is what you think, what you feel._  
  
_I don’t want to hurt your feelings, dearest, by my refusal to give you my name. Yet, I do what I do to save both our feelings until I am certain that we are both ready. I watch you from afar as you go about your business, unaware that I am there, watching you and wondering when I’ll find the courage to approach you._  
  
_You say that you could fall in love with me without seeing me and that, I feel, is proof that your heart is sincere. I feel the courage to tell you who I am soon. Not yet but soon. I keep wondering if you’ll guess, but you never do._  
  
_That is why, I feel, the only thing to do is to admit my feelings to your face. Only then will I gain the courage to deserve your love._  
  
_Thinking of your as always,_  
_An Admirer_  
  
Gwen rubbed her eyes after reading over what she had written several times before sealing it; she decided that she would drop it off tomorrow morning.  
  
She checked to see that he father was alright before settling down into bed too. She slipped the letter under her pillow and blew out the candle. As she rested her head on the pillow, she was asleep before she had time to think of her secret lover. Instead she dreamt about him – the odd thing was that she never saw Merlin’s face. All she ever saw were the letters, and heard the words in her head. It was as if she were more in love with the letters than anything else.  
  
The voice that read her letter was one shouldn’t recognise when she woke up, as it lost itself inside her memory. All she could remember was thinking two simple words: ‘Tell him.’  
  
It played over and over in her head like the chorus of a tune on a lute. It screamed so loud that it kept trying to rouse Gwen from her sleep. She was certain at times the dream did wake her up but the dream was so vivid and she never opened her eyes, so teetered back into her dream.  
  
She was still reading the letters. Now they were a circle formed around her. She picked each one up and held it to her nose. She thought about Merlin’s own aroma. He smelt of herbs, worn cotton and old books. She had noted it every time he went past, she couldn’t help it. Every time she smelt it or something similar she would think of him.  
  
In her dream she couldn’t smell the letters but her mind told her that the scent on this was different. She couldn’t tell how but it was different. Her mind kept telling her that the letter smelt rich, and, at the same time, of metal and sweat.  
  
What does this mean?  
  
Suddenly, someone put their hands over her eyes. “Guess who!” the voice said. Once again the lute tune of ‘Tell him’ kept screeching in her head. She pushed the hands away and turned around. It was Prince Arthur! She looked beside him and saw Merlin, smiling.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Arthur said. “It’s just a dream.”  
  
“Be grateful it’s just a dream,” Merlin said.  
  
Gwen stared at both of them. Next thing she knew the dream had jumped and she found herself lying in the grass outside of Camelot. Looking to each side she saw Merlin and Arthur lying on the grass as well, talking about nonsense. Finally she pulled herself and spoke to them.  
  
“What are you doing her?” she asked.  
  
“Hey, it’s your dream, sweetheart” Arthur said pulling himself up too. “Listen, you’re only dreaming about me because you saw me earlier. I have that effect on girls.”  
  
She scowled.  
  
Arthur pulled himself to his feet and walked a few steps away, looking at the horizon. Merlin propped himself up on his elbow and grinned at Gwen, “Its okay, he’s just in an odd place at the moment. Look, I think you should say the truth about your feelings.”  
  
Gwen propped herself up too and looked at him, eyes full of worry, “But I’m frightened of what you’ll think.”  
  
Merlin shrugged, “Why should you?”  
  
“Merlin, Guinevere,” called Arthur.  
  
When Gwen looked again he was on the back of his horse, in a full suit of armour, and the sun shining behind him like a figure off a tapestry. Gwen gasped at the sight of him. He was like a fairytale prince, not just a prince. She looked at Merlin who was still smiling.  
  
“Don’t worry,” he said. “You don’t have to stay much longer; it’s time you got up anyway, see…” he pointed.  
  
Gwen turned and saw her father smiling down on her. He mouthed something like ‘Time to get up, Gwen’.  
  
She turned back to Merlin, he nodded, “Yep, time to get up now. Listen, just roll over, I won’t be offended.”  
  
Gwen automatically rolled down the dream-hill and opened her eyes.  
  
She was back in her bed and looked up at her father through blurry eyes. He smiled at her, laying a hand on her forehead, “Are you alright, Gwen? It’s not like you to sleep late.”  
  
Gwen pulled herself up, “Sorry, I was just having a very… odd dream. I couldn’t wake up.”  
  
He nodded and walked out of the room, “Well, you’re awake now. Better get up or else you’ll be late for work.”  
  
-  
  
Arthur stood in the grassy field just outside of the city walls, eyes closed as if deep in thought. He was listening to the sound of the wind brushing finely against the blossoms on the trees. Their petals flurried down onto him like confetti on a wedding day. His eyes were ready to sense any sort of movement.  
  
He heard the clopping feet on the grass and the clang of metal as someone drew closer and closer towards him. His peace disturbed, Arthur opened his eyes and scowled.  
  
“Three, two, one…” Arthur ducked as Merlin flew at him like an enemy would in battle. He went right passed Arthur and landed with a painful thud on the ground. The prince walked up to him, hand on hips, scowling over Merlin’s smiling face.  
  
“You heard me coming, right?”  
  
“Stating the obvious, Merlin,” Arthur said. “You would be a disaster on the battlefield. I wager you couldn’t sneak up on an enemy but they could sneak up on you…”  
  
Not if I used magic to cheat, Merlin said. He could have taken Arthur or anyone on a battlefield apart without lifting a finger if he wanted to. But Gaius had taught him that it was not only dangerous to use magic when it was forbidden but it was also cheating. It was a pity that Merlin liked bending rules.  
  
Merlin reached into his pocket and took out the latest letter he had picked up from the secret alcove.  
  
He grinned, “I suppose you want this.” Arthur lunged forward, snatching the letter from him and opening it eagerly. As he read Merlin loomed over him, “Is it what you hoped it would be?”  
  
Arthur turned around and smiled, “Oh, yes. But this is between me and her, understand.”  
  
Merlin held up his hands defensively, “Hey, I’m not prying.”  
  
The prince nodded and fell silent for all of five seconds before he turned to Merlin, grinning. They two of the stood close together like boys did a school and his whispered, “She said that she’s almost ready to reveal herself.”  
  
“About time too,” Merlin replied with an approving nod. “How long has it been now, five or six weeks?”  
  
“Nearly six weeks exactly,” Arthur said, tucking the letter into his chest plate. “I haven’t had a relationship that lasted that long before. I normally get sick of them after a week.”  
  
“I know” Merlin said, his tone of voice changing from happy to annoyed, “I’m normally the one who has to drop them for you.”  
  
“I’d do it myself but,” Arthur turned around and looked at him. He put on a mocking smile and gestured his hands towards Merlin with a nod, “look at that face. That face is the face of integrity, the face of the average human being, the face of the man who has no cunning or malice…”  
  
Merlin chuckled at first before stopping and staring, “Are you saying I’m… _stupid_?”  
  
Arthur raised his eyebrows suggestively and said, “Any woman would be lucky to have you, Merlin. She’d be guaranteed you’d never betray her for another woman.”  
  
Merlin sighed. Frankly he’d be too happy to get any girl and wouldn’t see the need for another, so maybe Arthur was right. When he thought about it he saw that Arthur and he really were two sides of the same coin. The dragon certainly was no fool. The only trouble was that the coin always landed on tails, since Merlin always seemed to fall head first.  
  
“Did you drop off my letter to her last night before we went out on guard duty, Merlin?” Arthur asked.  
  
“No, I thought I’d tear it up and throw it out the window,” Merlin said sarcastically. “Of course I dropped it off. She probably has it by now. For all I know she took it last night.”  
  
-  
  
Gwen looked out the window watching Arthur and Merlin returning from the outer part of the city from Morgana’s window. It was odd seeing them return from there, especially since she had a dream about them the previous night.  
  
Morgana came up behind her and touched her shoulder. Gwen jumped but recovered quickly as her mistress looked over her shoulder. They both watched as Arthur strode back into the castle while Merlin, carrying a variety of Arthur’s things, hurried after him. Gwen sighed.  
  
“Poor Merlin,” Morgana said, eyes on the servant.  
  
Gwen nodded. She thought about her dream, how she kept thinking about how she should tell Merlin the truth. She knew that she had to do it. It was time to tell him the truth. She turned to her mistress, “Milady, can I get you anything?”  
  
Morgana shook her head, “No, I’m fine. Go to and talk to Merlin if you want.”  
  
Gwen looked at her blushing while Morgana smiled knowingly.  
  
She decided to take her mistress at her offer. Gwen decided to leave at noon and make her way towards Merlin’s home where she knew he’d be either helping Gaius or having lunch. Opening the front door she found Gaius and Merlin sitting around the table talk about something that Gwen didn’t catch. They stopped talking as soon as she came in.  
  
“Gwen,” Gaius said, acknowledging her presence. Merlin smiled at her; it melted her heart. “What brings you here?”  
  
“I just wondered if, after he’s eaten, Merlin would like to come for walk,” she said looking at him. “I-I mean if you don’t want to that’s okay. Only I was going for a walk and I wondered if…” she began to trail off. “You know, you could come too.”  
  
Merlin chuckled and nodded, “Yeah, yeah that sounds great. I’ll meet you in the courtyard.”  
  
Gwen beamed happily, “Okay.”  
  
“No, actually,” he put down his spoon and got up. “Let’s go now…”  
  
“What about your vegetables?” Gaius interrupted.  
  
“I don’t know,” Merlin said cheekily. “I seem to have gone off potatoes… I can’t _imagine_ why!”  
  
Gwen chuckled while Gaius rolled his eyes.  
  
“When you get back you need to tidy up your room,” Gaius added. “I’m worried you’ll contract so terrible disease that no one has ever seen before and I won’t be able to treat you.”  
  
“Yes, I will” he replied like a spoilt child. Merlin picked up his worn brown coat and made his way to the door, offering his arm to Gwen, “Shall we go?”  
  
She nodded and followed him out.  
  
They walked out into the courtyard and Merlin looked at Gwen as if to ask where she wanted to go. She pointed the way to go and they negotiated their way through a few crowds on the street. Finally they made their way outside to the grassy area which Merlin had just come from. Nonetheless he seemed happy enough to be back, and considerably happier not to be carrying around Arthur’s things.  
  
They found a nice piece of flat land where they sat down and enjoyed the coming of spring. It reminded Merlin that it was May Day soon and he had missed the celebrations meeting.  
  
“Did I miss anything important?” he asked, sitting down.  
  
He laid down his coat for them both to sit on.  
  
“Oh, no, not really” Gwen said shaking her head. “I’d clue you in but they didn’t really tell us much about what’s going on that day. They never do. I mean the king just gives the speech because it’s traditional. He probably didn’t even notice you weren’t there.”  
  
“I bet he did,” Merlin said lying down. “He doesn’t like me.”  
  
“You saved his son several times” Gwen pointed out.  
  
“Well,” he said, trying to think of the words. “It’s not that he dislikes me. He just thinks I’m an idiot.”  
  
Gwen shook her head, “You’re not an idiot.”  
  
Merlin chuckled, “That’s one of the first things you ever said to me. You even said it was great that I stood up to Arthur.”  
  
“It was!” she said excitedly. “I think the influence you have over him is brilliant. I really like that you’re having a… good influence.”  
  
Merlin laughed and looked up at Gwen without sitting up, “Come on, Gwen, you must want to tell me something if you’re showering me with compliments. I mean you come around and ask me out on a date…”  
  
Gwen blushed, too embarrassed to deny it because it was true. Merlin had only meant it all as a joke but it was true. She had asked him out, and she had done it so she could tell him about the letters. It was obvious he didn’t have a clue or else he would have said something by now. They sat in silence for a while looking at the green and the white and the pink of newborn spring.  
  
“Merlin,” she said taking a deep breath. “There _is_ something I want to tell you.”  
  
Merlin looked up at the sky, his hands lying on his chest, “Yes?”  
  
She couldn’t decide whether she wanted to lie down as well and look up at the sky or sit up and look at him. Either way Merlin didn’t seem to be taking it seriously.  
  
“It’s quite important” she quivered out.  
  
Merlin straight away sat up, convinced there was something seriously wrong. He couldn’t think what, though. “What is it?”  
  
She twiddled her fingers nervously, as her chest started to tighten, her blood started to boil and her breath started to quicken. She sighed a few times and couldn’t stop beaming, or laughing. Finally she forced herself into the mind set and began to say the crucial words.  
  
“Merlin,” she began. “Those letters…”  
  
“Letters,” Merlin repeated.  
  
“The letters that are being left behind that loose brick,” Gwen told him.  
  
Merlin pretended he didn’t know what she was talking about. He had been sworn to secrecy. He shrugged and shook his head, but then again Merlin was a very bad liar.  
  
“I’ve seen you leave and take them,” she explained.  
  
“Ah,” he said, “now no one was meant to see me.”  
  
“You haven’t exactly played incognito very well, no,” Gwen admitted, chuckling. She then changed her tone back and took a deep breath as she did. Looking him the eyes she remembered her dream, and she just found herself saying it. “I’m the one who’s been sending them.”  
  
Merlin stared at her in disbelief. He tried several times to form words but failed each time. Finally, when he did form the words, they came out in a little amused chuckle. “You wrote the letters!”  
  
Gwen nodded, taken aback by his laughing, “Yes, I wrote them.”  
  
The young man rubbed the back of his head before beaming, “I can hardly believe it!”  
  
“Oh, I thought you might have…” she began.  
  
“Guessed?”  
  
“Yes,” she said, a little confused. She managed to smile again “After everything that happened I thought—you really had _no_ idea?”  
  
Merlin was stunned, “I thought, you know, when I first came here that you… I gathered from what you said, I mean, that you… Well, you know.”  
  
Gwen nodded, “Yes, well, now you know.” Taking a deep breath she laughed in spite of herself, “I’m surprised at how easy this was. I was terrified of what you would think…”  
  
“Why should you be bothered about hat?” he asked. He clapped his hands together and pulled himself up. “Well, what do you want me to do?”  
  
“Do,” she said, surprised and looking down, “well, nothing… if you don’t want to.”  
  
“I have to do something,” he said. “I mean do you want me to tell Arthur, or throw him off the lead, or hint at it, or…”  
  
Gwen had been too busy in her own thoughts to register what Merlin was saying at first. He wasn’t making sense. Finally she stopped him, holding her hands up, calling for silence.  
  
“Wait a second,” she said, frowning. “What has Arthur got to do with any of this?”  
  
Merlin looked at her, “I just assumed, since you told me about the letters, you wanted me to do something about it.”  
  
She had to back peddle, “Again, what has that got to do with Arthur?”  
  
He looked around him, searching the scene, as if he and Gwen were standing in two opposite parallel universes from each other. She wasn’t making sense, and was looking at him as if he was speaking in another language.  
  
In the end he spelt it out: “Because he’s been getting these letters for over a month now and you just told me it was you who sent them.”  
  
Gwen stared at him, “Arthur?”  
  
“Yes,” Merlin said.  
  
“Arthur?” she repeated.  
  
He nodded, “Ye-es…”  
  
Gwen stood there in complete silence for five seconds, trying to put the whole conversation into context. She couldn’t get her head around it. Finally it hit home what she had done and it knocked her for six.  
  
She gasped, so loud that it gave Merlin a fright, and covered her mouth with her hands. At that moment she turned redder and hotter than she had ever done before, realising the unbelievably awkward situation she had found herself in. She shook her head in denial and began to whisper, “No, no, _what_ have I _done_!?”  
  
Merlin was concerned. He put a hand on her shoulder, which made her leap out her skin; she was too embarrassed to look him in the face.  
  
“Are you alright?”  
  
She shook her head.  
  
“Is there anything I can do?”  
  
She shook her head at first but then begun to nod.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
She almost felt compelled to tell him the whole story from the beginning at that moment but she just couldn’t find the courage to do it. Her courage was maxed out and she no longer had the energy or the dignity to tell him the truth at that moment.  
  
Taking her hands away from her mouth, she whispered to him; “Just don’t tell Arthur it’s me. I need time to think.”


	7. Chapter 7

Morgana’s eyes shot open.  
  
Sitting up suddenly she realised that she had dropped off in her chair from lack of anything else to do. It had been another vivid dream, the _same_ dream. It was obvious that the sleeping drafts were not working for her. She had to convince him to tell her more about what she saw. She had to tell _someone_ …  
  
She pulled her wrap around her and walked cross the sunny courtyard, straight towards Gaius’s apartments. There was no guarantee he would be there, but if he wasn’t then Merlin might be; she could leave a message with him.  
  
Finally getting to the dark passage that led to his home she opened the door and stepped inside. There didn’t appear to be anyone in. She sighed in defeat and walked in nonetheless. She ran her fingers across the books on the table, all of the about how to make concoctions of herbs to heal the sick and soothe pain, about creatures that inhabited the kingdom, and about other sciences. They were all subjects Morgana lacked interest in.  
  
She heard a clang come from the little room at the top of a small set of stairs. She made her way over to see what it was.  
  
“Gaius?” she called.  
  
There was no reply.  
  
Morgana cautiously went to the door and peered through. Inside she saw someone lying on a small bed in the corner with their head buried in a book. It had to be Merlin. She was about to knock on the door to alert him to her presence when she heard the clag again. Merlin looked up, not seeing her through the break in the door, and got up.  
  
“Oh well,” he said to himself. “It was a nice try.”  
  
He sat back down on the bed with a bucket of water. Morgana scowled, what _was_ he _doing_? He sat cross legged on the bed with the book his was reading lying in front of him and he placed the bucket on the table by his bed. He then picked up a scrubbing brush. Morgana tried to lean forward to see what he was going to do with it.  
  
“Right, now, let’s try again” he said. He placed the brush down with the bucket and shook his head, “Why is it that for all the things I can use this book for I _can’t_ use it to do my housework?”  
  
He located something on the page of the book he was reading and drew breath to speak; unbeknownst that Morgana was watching intently. He whispered something old-sounding, like an ancient poem. Then, suddenly there was another small crash. Merlin looked towards the door…  
  
Morgana gasped, backing against the wall. She waited a few moments before looking back into the room, covering her mouth to hide her breathing.  
  
Merlin was standing by the window, looking out at the city. Morgana leant in closer to see what was going on. Merlin said something before she could look. She froze, as if he knew she was here. Then she realised that Merlin was talking to himself.  
  
“I hope Arthur doesn’t get into trouble today,” he said. “If I end up in the stocks again and he nearly gets killed… Ow!” he felt behind him to rub his back, “Let’s hope he doesn’t meet any more of the sidhe; I’m lucky I can walk… ouch!”  
  
He turned, she ducked away.  
  
She left it a few seconds before she dared to look again. He was lying on his bed with his eyes closed. He then chuckled, “Let’s hope this girl is nothing like them. If she is then I wish I’d held on to that staff of theirs…”  
  
It was at that moment Morgana heard someone coming from the passageway outside the room. It must be Gaius, she thought.  
  
“Merlin!” called Gaius from outside.  
  
Morgana rushed down the small stairs into the main room so that Merlin wouldn’t see that she was right outside the door. Trying to look as if she’d only just stumbled in she looked at the odd herbs and books on the table as Gaius came in.  
  
“Merlin!” he called again as he saw her. He looked at her, knowing what was coming, “Morgana.”  
  
Merlin came out of his room at that moment and saw her too. He stopped dead, his skin pale with shock, “Hello, Morgana.”  
  
She stared at him before managing to smile, “Hello, Merlin.”  
  
Gaius came up towards her and gave her an affectionate, fatherly kiss on the cheek. As he spoke to her he glanced at Merlin, “How long have you been waiting, my child?”  
  
“Oh, I only just came in,” she lied. “I didn’t know Merlin was home.”  
  
“I didn’t know she was here” Merlin said independently, to Gaius.  
  
“Yes, she just said that, Merlin,” Gaius said.  
  
Merlin awkwardly nodded and looked away, not knowing what to say. Morgana glanced at him before turning to Gaius, “I had another dream.”  
  
“I thought as much,” the old man replied.  
  
He motioned her into a chair and began to put together some sort of tea for her. As he worked he glanced up at Merlin. “Don’t you have to go back to work, Merlin?”  
  
“No,” he said, picking up one of Gaius’s books and reading it through. He looked up and saw Gaius staring at him. “Oh right, that was a _hint_. I can take a hint.”  
  
Merlin put down the book, picked up his jacket and went towards the door.  
  
“It’s alright,” Morgana said to Gaius. “I trust Merlin.”  
  
“Don’t worry about me,” he assured her with an innocent smile. “I can tell when I’m not wanted. I’ll just walk aimlessly around the castle until someone gives me an order.” He nodded to Morgana, “See you later.”  
  
She watched him go, her eyes not leaving him. She managed to smile as she did so. As soon as he was gone it faded and she wondered about the scene she had witnessed in his room. What had she actually seen? She wondered if he had been using the ‘forbidden’ word. Furthermore she wondered what he was talking about with the ‘sidhe’ and whatnot.  
  
Gaius sat down at the end of the table and poured her out the tea before offering it to her. She drank it nervously, looking around the cluttered and dusty room, wondering how anyone as old as Gaius could stand to live in a place like it.  
  
“Well?” Gaius said.  
  
“Well,” Morgana began. “It was the dream again. I didn’t think anything of it at first but now… I don’t know.”  
  
“Do you still see Gwen in the dreams?”  
  
She nodded, “I see her sitting in a room, crying. It’s all so vivid… I know I see Arthur as well, and Uther, and a fire burning, and blood pouring across the floor of the throne room, and then…” she said, trying to recall. “I saw the eyes again.”  
  
Gaius started up, “The _cat_ eyes?”  
  
“Yes, these yellow cat eyes,” she explained. “Like the eyes of a demon.”  
  
She gulped down the tea in one go, trying to remain as ladylike as possible.  
  
Gaius shook his head, “It’s just a nightmare, Morgana. You’ve been dreaming of the yellow cat eyes ever since you were a little girl. It doesn’t mean anything.”  
  
“Then why do I keep seeing it!” she cried.  
  
Gaius raised his hands to calm her down, resting them on her shoulders, “Morgana, I keep telling you. Your mind is playing tricks. Everyone has nightmares.”  
  
Morgana nodded, not convinced. “So what are you going to do now? Drug me with an even stronger sleeping draft?”  
  
Gaius sighed, “What do _you_ want to do?”  
  
She sighed helplessly, “I don’t know what I _can_ do. I never have ever since I was a child. I’d dream things and then they’d happen.”  
  
She stood and walked towards the window.  
  
“Like that time Arthur fell off his horse and broke his wrist,” she said. “I dreamt that for nearly a month before it happened. I remember the dream even now – it happened _just_ as I said it would!”  
  
She turned to look at Gaius, “I just want to be able to sleep at night and now the dreams I am having are just dreams. Now, tell me honestly, is that ever going to happen?”  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
Gaius shook his head, “I only wish it could be that way, Morgana.”  
  
With a look of defeat in her eyes she turned to leave. Then she stopped, thinking of Merlin again. She turned to look at Gaius. He stood looking at her in silence. After a short pause he finally spoke.  
  
“What is it, Morgana?”  
  
“Gaius,” she began. “May I ask you something… about Merlin?”  
  
“What about Merlin?”  
  
“Have you ever noticed something… different about him?”  
  
Gaius turned back to his work, “He’s a very ‘different’ sort of a boy. Why do you ask?”  
  
“It’s just…” she began, trying to find the right words. She didn’t want to mention magic as she knew how loyal Gaius was to Uther, and didn’t want to worry him. “There is something different about him.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“It’s like,” she said, “he knows about things that no one else does. Whenever Arthur is saved he’s always there. Remember when I had that dream about Sophia killing him. You said yourself that you would find someone who could help him… and you sent Merlin.”  
  
Gaius shrugged, “There was no one else to send.”  
  
“You could have told Uther,” she said. “If Arthur had just run off to elope then you could have had Uther send riders out to find them. You could have sent the whole army knowing the mood Uther is in these days. But you didn’t… you sent Merlin.”  
  
Gaius glanced at her, “He offered to go. It wasn’t exactly an emergency. I didn’t want to worry Uther needlessly.”  
  
“Then there’s the druid boy,” she began. “Mordred, you remember him. When I was treating him, he called out my name. I heard him say it but his lips didn’t mood. It’s like… he was in my mind.”  
  
“What’s your point?”  
  
“When his guardian was executed,” she explained. “Merlin was with me, we were watching from my bedroom window. The boy screamed so loud he smashed the mirror. Again, his lips didn’t move. He did it in his mind, and I could hear him. Looking back I realised… _Merlin could hear him too_. He tried to speak to him a few times while he was there. Merlin and I could hear Mordred speak to us in our minds while Arthur and Gwen couldn’t hear…”  
  
The old man put his work down and looked at her, “Morgana…”  
  
“Is he like me?”  
  
The old man looked at her, “In what way?”  
  
“You _know_ what I mean.”  
  
Gaius picked up a bottle and handed it to her, “Drink this before you go to bed it should induce a very deep sleep…”  
  
“I take it that’s a _yes_ ,” Morgana said.  
  
“…Your mother used to find it very effective.”  
  
“Gaius, please,” she said imploringly. “Tell me.”  
  
“Morgana” Gaius said. “I will not say anything that will incriminate you or Merlin.”  
  
She shook her head helplessly, “You don’t understand. I can _feel_ it on him…”  
  
The old man shook his head, “Then why are you talking to me about it?”  
  
Morgana stood in silence, not knowing how to reply. In the end she didn’t. She just took the medicine and walked out.  
  
-  
  
The next day Gwen came into the castle with two letters; one for Arthur and one for Merlin. She had taken all night to write them and felt quite weary for having done so. But it was worth it. She had decided that the only way she could find courage to confess anything to anyone was on paper. It made her feel stronger.  
  
Firstly, she dropped off the letter to Merlin.  
  
She knocked on the door and found Gaius inside but no sign of Merlin. In some level she was glad as she would rather the letter were passed on rather than have to give it to him herself.  
  
Gaius was brewing something at his workbench when she walked in. He turned and smiled, “Gwen, what brings you here? Are you here to see Merlin?”  
  
“Why, is he here?” she asked.  
  
“I’m afraid not,” he replied. “He just left to see Arthur.”  
  
“Good,” she whispered before swiftly handing him the letter. “Make sure he gets that.”  
  
Gaius took the letter, looking it over and nodded, placing it safely into a book. “I’ll make sure he does. Was that all?”  
  
She nodded and turned to leave. Then she remembered something. “Oh, by the way, make sure that he knows it is for him. Don’t let him give it to Arthur by mistake.”  
  
Gaius tilted his head, having no idea what she meant. He nodded again, “I will.”  
  
The second letter was to go to Arthur. There was only one place she felt she could leave that; in the secret alcove where all the letters were left. When she opened it she found yet another letter there, as always. She took it and replaced it with the letter she had written. For the first time she had written a letter solely for Arthur.  
  
Walking towards Morgana’s apartments she thought about those letters and the things she had considered the night before when she wrote, what she believed would be her last letter to Arthur.  
  
Her feelings for Merlin had already been there when she started writing them and he started replying. The more she read the letters the more in love she fell. Now she didn’t know what to think. Had she only fallen in love with the letter writer because she believed it was Merlin or had she on some level fallen in love with the letter writer because she thought she was seeing a different side to someone she thought she loved?  
  
In the end she decided she had to set the record straight. With Merlin, in any case; it had gone too far to amend the damage it might have done to Arthur. She could hardly tell him that it was a case of mistaken identity. She wasn’t even sure it was, anymore.  
  
The letter writer had bared a part of his soul to her in those letters. When she thought about it she felt it was quite likely that Arthur was just making the whole thing up. He had never been someone a person associated with ‘deep feelings’ and certainly not one for writing romantic love letters.  
  
Yet he did, and there was a chance that he could truly be developing feelings for her. The thing was that she had Merlin to tell her what he thought. Then again what if he did have feelings for her, maybe even love her? Gwen knew she was getting ahead of herself but what if he found out now it was her that sent the letters. He’d be humiliated and probably ridicule her.  
  
But that is the Arthur I know from every day life, Gwen thought. Not the letter writer.  
  
Then again was this rough-tough Arthur all there was to him? He had done so many noble and loving things – he saved Merlin from dying even though there was a risk that he could die, and he rescued her the other night from being robbed by thieves…  
  
Gwen walked into Morgana’s chambers and greeted her with a forced smile. “Good morning, milady.”  
  
Morgana walked up to her and noticed straight away something was wrong, “What’s the matter, Gwen?”  
  
“Oh, nothing, milady” she said bravely. “I’ll be fine.”  
  
Morgana wasn’t convinced, but decided not to press the issue since Gwen was obviously not looking for advice. She walked over to her drinking cabinet and poured out a cup of wine. She took it as if it were her medicine. It had become a habit recently – medicating herself with wine seemed to take the edge off the dreams much better than the sleeping drafts did.  
  
She even wondered what would happen if she poured the sleeping draft into a cup of wine.  
  
“Gwen,” she said suddenly.  
  
“Yes, milady,” Gwen replied, also in a world of her own. “Is there something I can do for you?”  
  
“Do you speak to Merlin often?” the lady asked.  
  
“He’s” Gwen began. She thought for a moment before finishing. “He’s my friend, milady. One of the best I could ask for.”  
  
“I thought the two of you were—” Morgana began.  
  
Gwen started up, “We’re not! We never have… and we probably never will now.”  
  
Morgana was intrigued, realising this was why Gwen looked so down, “Why do you say that?”  
  
The maidservant took a deep breath and shook her head. “It’s a long story.”  
  
Morgana turned back to pour another glass of wine, this time getting one for Gwen. She handed it to the girl and sat down, “Tell me. I want to help.”  
  
Gwen took the cup and shook her head again, “I don’t see how anyone can help. I’m so confused and…” she sat down. She felt like telling someone who wouldn’t judge her, but she had to think about how she could cover up for things Morgana might find awkward – like Arthur’s involvement – as she knew that in reality Morgana would probably end up as queen one day.  
  
She began: “I’ve been sending letters to a man. I thought he was Merlin at first but I recently found out that it was in fact another man. He would write such wonderful things in the letter, and always ask who I was and… I thought it was Merlin I loved, and the letters made me believe it more but now…”  
  
“You’re in love with the man who you have been writing letters to?” Morgana asked.  
  
“That’s just it,” Gwen said in a strained, confused voice. “I don’t know what to think anymore. I _adore_ Merlin. There’s just something about him; he’s so kind, sweet, and funny. He’s so _wonderfully_ _weird_ …”  
  
Morgana nodded, “Tell me about it.”  
  
“I liked him as soon as I saw him,” Gwen confessed. She then held her head down, ready to talk about ‘the other man’, “But the man who was writing the letters…”  
  
“What’s he like?”  
  
“He’s very… un-Merlin,” she explained. “He’s much harder, not nearly as sweet, and is a bit of a… bully. Not to me or anything but, you know, to others. You know the type.”  
  
Morgana nodded, “Sounds like most men our age. Arthur is one, his friends are another. Not many men are like Merlin.”  
  
Gwen looked away at the mention of Arthur, “I know. But the thing is that these letters have shown another side of him to me. I mean the other day he helped me when I was walking home late and even came to see if I was alright. He doesn’t even have a _clue_ the letters were written by me. It made me wonder… what if he just behaves that way because he feels he needs to.”  
  
“Could be,” Morgana said. “The thing about men is that the often pretend to be tougher than they really are. What sort of things did the man write in his letters?”  
  
Gwen couldn’t help but smile, “The most touching and endearing things I have ever read. Looking back over the letters I’m surprised I didn’t catch on quicker. Funny thing is that even in my dreams when I thought about the letters I never saw Merlin. I only ever saw the words.”  
  
Morgana chuckled, “It sounds like you answered your own question.”  
  
“Sorry?”  
  
“You’re obviously in love with this man.”  
  
Gwen looked at her, cheek starting to flush.  
  
“It sounds like what you felt for Merlin was a bit of a—” Morgana tried to find the right word, “an infatuation. We all get those. But this other man, I don’t know, when I look at you when you speak of him… there’s something there.”  
  
Gwen smiled shyly, “You think?”  
  
Morgana nodded, “I do.”  
  
The maid smiled before looking away and shaking her head, “It doesn’t matter because it’s never going to work out.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“It’s a long story.”  
  
“I have plenty of wine.”  
  
Gwen chuckled, “It’s longer than that. The bottom line is that… I’m not good enough for him.”  
  
Morgana scowled. She put down her wine goblet and took Gwen’s hands, “Listen to me, Gwen. Don’t ever believe that you’re not good enough for someone. Any man would be lucky to have you.”  
  
“It’s not like that,” the maid replied. “He’s a bit higher up in the social class than I am.”  
  
Gwen thought, _A bit_ doesn’t cover it. He’s a bloody Prince!  
  
“That doesn’t matter!” Morgana said firmly. “If this man loves you then he should fight for you, and damn your social class. Whether he’s a servant like you, or a lord, or a king, he should fight for you. Then you’ll know your love is true.”  
  
Gwen shook his head, “It’s funny but before Merlin came here…”  
  
“Hmm,” Morgana said through a smile.  
  
“I had a little bit of a crush on this man,” she confessed, “Just a little one, mind. Very, very little, but I did; ever since I was a little girl, actually.”  
  
Morgana tilted her head, “I didn’t know that!”  
  
“I didn’t want to tell you because…” Gwen began but she stopped. She almost said ‘because I knew how you felt about him.’ She just shook her head and smiled, “I… thought you might laugh.”  
  
Morgana reached out to pat Gwen’s hair as if they were sisters, “Don’t be silly. I would _never_ laugh at you. You’re the only person who keeps me sane in this world. I do anything to make you happy.”  
  
Gwen couldn’t help but smile; Morgana was so much more than her mistress, she was her friend.  
  
“I am happy,” Gwen said. “I’m just confused. I feel as if… I’m trapped. I don’t want to confess my love to this man face to face. I’m just terrified of what will happen.”  
  
“It’ll be fine,” Morgana replied. “If he is worthy of your love, then he will love you the moment he realises it is you.”


	8. Chapter 8

Merlin walked into his master’s chambers and, for the first time in that week, Arthur wasn’t waiting by the door for him. On the other hand Merlin had made sure to get up extra early so Arthur probably hadn’t got up yet. He walked into the bedroom and found Arthur sitting in bed, staring into space. On his lap there was a letter.  
  
Another one, Merlin thought.  
  
He still hadn’t come around to the fact that Gwen was the letter writer. It made him see them in a whole other way. He then remembered Morgana’s dream about Gwen, and how she saw her as Queen of Camelot. Merlin shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself.  
  
It was then he noticed that Arthur had a troubled look on his face.  
  
“Morning, sire” he said chirpily.  
  
Arthur looked and him and then back to the spot again, “I never thought I’d live to see you get here early. Has the plague finally broken out in that pig sty you call a bedroom?” Merlin cleared his throat. He went on: “You’re welcome to sleep on the floor of my bedroom after you’ve swept it.”  
  
“And is there a reason for your prickliness this morning, sire?” Merlin asked.  
  
The prince sighed, laying his head back around the head board of the bed with his eyes closed. “I went out early to get the letter from the alcove this morning.”  
  
Merlin nodded and set to folding up Arthur’s discharged nightshirt. A part of him felt a little smug, as he was ‘in the know’, “You must be keen, then.”  
  
“Keener than she seems to be,” Arthur said quietly.  
  
“How’d you mean?” Merlin asked.  
  
“It’s her latest letter,” he explained. “It’s much more… formal than the others.”  
  
Merlin swallowed, “In what way?”  
  
Arthur handed it to him, “Read it, I don’t mind.”  
  
The servant read aloud:  
  
 _Sir,_  
  
 _Over the last few weeks your letters have inspired a strange and deep meaning within me. You say that my identity kept you writing, but for me it was that I was certain I knew who you were. What I found from these letters you sent showed how wrong I was about who you were, in more ways than one._  
  
 _You truly have a sensitive side…_  
  
Merlin couldn’t help chocking back a chuckle.  
  
 _…that I feel you do not show often enough. I’d like to see you use this romantic side of you more. Yet, in reading your letters I have come to realise several things. Firstly, I must be straight with you – as well as you there is someone else…_  
  
He stopped and looked at Arthur, “Oh…”  
  
“Read the rest,” Arthur ordered.  
  
Merlin obeyed, curious to know who Gwen’s ‘other man’ was…  
  
 _I have had feelings for this man for some time now and I am confused. I see him and I burn with emotion. Yet when I read your letters I burn just as much, if not even more. Now, when I see you walking around the palace, I daren’t look you in the face for fear you’ll see me for what I am._  
  
Merlin paused again, thinking about the words. Was this true? He had suspected Gwen had an innocent crush on Arthur but had no idea she was going through this. It made him feel awkward. He was supposed to be her best friend.  
  
 _This brings me to the second point – although you said that you could love me no matter what, I feel that any love between us is impossible. The truth is that regardless of this other man he is more within my reach. You are a prince, and I cannot compete with other women, more beautiful and glamorous, and – above all – rich as they are._  
  
 _I have nothing to offer you other than little love letters and a heart, which is not enough for a prince who deserves so much more._  
  
 _An Admirer_  
  
Merlin put the letter down and looked at Arthur, “I think she prefers you deep down.”  
  
The prince sighed, “Another man. That has never happened to me before. A girl who I care for has another man.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“God!” cried Arthur, throwing his head back again and covering his face, “If only I knew who she was I’d be able to fight for her or _better_ ,” he added. “I’ll put that other guy in his place.”  
  
Merlin sighed. He had promised Gwen he wouldn’t tell her that he knew it was her sending the letters, but he had to tell Arthur something.  
  
“I know who she is” Merlin said quietly.  
  
Arthur sprang up with a start and stared at him, “ _What_ , you know who she is?” He nodded. The prince jumped up onto his feet, “Tell me!”  
  
“I can’t,” the servant replied. “I promised her I wouldn’t tell you her name.”  
  
“Why?” Arthur said with a scowl.  
  
“Because she just did,” Merlin replied.  
  
“Merlin,” Arthur said in his stern ‘I-am-the-Prince’ voice, “ _Tell_ me who she _is_!”  
  
He shrugged, “I can’t tell you, but I might be able to find out who the other man is for you.”  
  
Arthur sighed and fell backwards onto the bed again, throwing his arms over the other aide and groaning loudly. He felt so frustrated. Merlin stood there awkwardly, looking out the window for distraction. He knew he’d crack eventually, but he couldn’t betray Gwen.  
  
Merlin sighed, “I’m sorry. I truly am sorry sire but… she’s my best friend.”  
  
“Fine” the prince finally said.  
  
“Fine…” Merlin repeated.  
  
“Find out who this man is for me, and then,” Arthur said pulling himself up. He walked over to the window and looked out at the white sky. He held himself tall and strong, as if he were regaining the masculinity he had shamelessly let down right in front of Merlin.  
  
“And then?” Merlin asked.  
  
“Find out just how serious they are.”  
  
-  
  
Merlin wandered home in a daze, thinking about Gwen and the letter she had sent to Arthur. He wondered whether his asking about her feelings for Arthur the other day had frightened her off. Had he ruined this relationship for Arthur? Had he ruined Gwen’s chance to be part of a fairytale come true?  
  
He dragged himself into the room. Gaius looked up and pulled a poker face when he saw how shattered and saddened his charge seemed to be in comparison to the personification of cheerfulness.  
  
He collapsed into a chair and buried his head in his arms at the table. Gaius slipped two piece of paper in front of him. Merlin looked up and took them, “What are these?”  
  
“A note and a letter,” Gaius explained, getting back to his work, “The note is from Morgana, asking if you could bring her another sleeping draft and some more willow bark for her headaches. The letter is from Gwen, she delivered it this morning. She told me to point out that it is for _you_.”  
  
Merlin looked at the letter sealed up, just for him. “Why would she be writing to me? She only lives a few streets away…”  
  
Gaius rolled his eyes, “I don’t know, Merlin. Why don’t you read it?”  
  
“And why does Morgana want me to bring her the sleeping draft?” Merlin asked.  
  
Gaius looked away, “I’m too busy to take it myself.”  
  
Merlin groaned and made his way to his room. The day wasn’t even over yet and he was completely drained of all happiness. All he could think about was Arthur and how sad he was. What made it worse was that he had made it worse by telling him he knew who the girl was.  
  
Why did I do that? Merlin asked himself.  
  
He sat on his bed and opened the letter from Gwen. He wondered if it contained instructions from her on what he could and could not say to Arthur about her. He hated being in the middle of this love affair gone wrong. It was bad enough he had his own ‘big’ secret without keeping Gwen’s too.  
  
He read the letter;  
  
 _Merlin,_  
  
 _This is more of a confession than anything else. It is a confession of the foolish mistake that I made which has now left me in the middle of a hopeless circle of confusion. Like something out of a fairytale…_  
  
At that moment his innocence of the situation was broken:  
  
 _This is the confession; I love you. It was my error in not just telling you months ago how I felt, but writing these letters where anyone could have read them. As it turns out the original letter that I wrote, it was written for you—not the man who read it. I foolishly kept reading and writing believing the writer was you._  
  
 _And yet I knew something wasn’t quite right. The language used, the handwriting, the smell of the paper, I knew it wasn’t you. I suppose I was living a delusion. But, Merlin, I have now found myself caught by my own feelings. I love you, but I also love Arthur. The things he wrote… they have shown a different side to him, one I didn’t know was there._  
  
 _I can’t lie anymore. I need to know what you think and how you feel. I imagine this will cause you some distress, and this I am sorry for, but you of all people will understand my need an answer._  
  
 _You need not write a reply to me, just tell me face to face. I promise I will accept whatever choice you make, and I hope I can count on your sympathy and support no matter what because that is just your good nature._  
  
 _Gwen._  
  
Merlin slumped back into his pillow, took a deep sigh and closing his eyes wishing he hadn’t woken up this morning. He tried to churn all the information over in his head. It just didn’t seem to make sense in his head.  
  
Gwen had feelings for him?  
  
Thinking back over the last few months it was somewhat obvious, what with her kissing him and Morgana and Arthur mistaking their relationship for that of a romantic one. Even Lancelot, who had clearly been smitten with Gwen, asked him whether they were – to put it in polite terms – having relations.  
  
He’d laughed at the very idea. “No, we’re just friends!”  
  
He had no idea Gwen felt that way – and that really did make him an idiot. One of the first things he said to her was along those lines: “I’m Merlin, but most people just call me ‘idiot’.” And he _was_ a complete idiot.  
  
The tragic thing was that no girl had ever fallen for him before, so he didn’t know what to do. He felt helpless and clueless. He had always believed that he would know the girl he would love the moment he saw her. Ironically Merlin had been ‘attracted’ to plenty of girls, but for some reason Gwen was never one of them.  
  
Besides, even if he did love her, what would be the point? Arthur was in love with her too – although he didn’t know it yet – and he always got the girl. He deserved the girl, really. He had been the one she fell in love with over the letters. Gwen deserved to have the prince too. She would live out every serving girl’s fantasy.  
  
He loved Gwen, but as a friend. She meant the world to him, but just not in _that_ way. If there was a chance Gwen could find happiness with the most handsome prince in the kingdom, he wouldn’t stand in the way of it. Even if he did feel the same, Merlin couldn’t offer Gwen. He was only a servant. He was a servant with a great destiny but nonetheless he was still a servant.  
  
After thinking everything over in his head, he stumbled out of his room an hour later rubbing his eyes. Gaius was reading peacefully. He looked up, “Feeling better now?”  
  
Merlin nodded and sat in a chair at the bench. Gaius stared at him, “Merlin.”  
  
“Hmm”  
  
“Morgana’s sleeping draft,” he stated. Merlin sighed, picked up the sleeping draft and the willow bark, and made his way out the door. “And remember the meeting.”  
  
“What meeting?”  
  
“The May Day meeting,” Gaius replied.  
  
Merlin thought for a moment, “Wait a minute, I thought we already had one.”  
  
“There is another one.”  
  
As if other people didn’t have anything better to do, Merlin thought. He groaned, “Holding meetings must be one of Uther’s favourite pass times; holding meetings, burning witches and putting me in the stocks.”


	9. Chapter 9

Arthur sat at his desk, dangling a quill loosely between his fingers. He reclined in his chair with his eyes half open. The afternoon sunshine was shining into his room, illuminating his face. Surrounding him were pieces of paper, thrown to one side, ready to be picked up by Merlin and thrown into the fire.  
  
A servant knocked on the door. It was Gregory, the knife-dodging-brainless-wonder. “Highness, your presence is required in the throne room.”  
  
Arthur didn’t answer, just nodded slowly. As the door closed he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked at his ink tray to see it was empty and dried out. He reached over to where he kept spares but found it had been moved.  
  
“Blast you, Merlin!” he grunted under his breath.  
  
He banged the draw shut and looked through the rest of his desk to find the ink. Finally he found it under the papers – Merlin much have been distracted while taking away the scraps to be burnt; he remembered that he had asked him to get his armour while he was clearing it for him the other day.  
  
He always made sure to keep his love letters hidden in a secret place where he thought Merlin didn’t know about – although he actually did – under his bed.  
  
Dripping his quill in the ink he began to write again. It was his fourth try at writing this letter. He didn’t want to make a mistake.  
  
 _After receiving your letter words cannot describe how saddened I was._  
  
 _I have spent the last few weeks trying to tell you how much I love you, how I would love you not matter what, and now you tell me that our love is impossible? The only thing that seems to make it impossible is your constant belief that it cannot be possible._  
  
He paused, swallowed and went on.  
  
 _Therefore I feel there is only one thing for it…_  
  
His hand shook as he wrote.  
  
 _I must confess—that I am in love with you._  
  
 _I would not write this to any woman and not mean it. If I did not love you I would not have continued to write to you for so long. What more can I do to explain on paper how much I love you despite having never seen your face._  
  
 _The answer is nothing…_  
  
He looked out of the window; the spring high sun stained the sky bright blue. He turned back to his letter.  
  
 _There is only one thing I can suggest now—I want us to meet._  
  
 _I feel after all this time it isn’t too much to ask that I finally see who you are._  
  
 _Therefore I put this proposition to you. On the First of May Day during the celebrations I will go to the secret alcove after the feast, when the dancing begins. I will stay there for half an hour. If you do not come then I shall take it that you wish nothing more to do with me. I will stop writing to you and your identity will forever be a mystery to me._  
  
 _I hope against all hope that you will meet me there._  
  
Putting the quill down, dried off the ink and sealed it up.  
  
He realised that he had stayed longer than he should have. He thought of leaving the letter at the secret alcove but he decided to leave it with Merlin. He said he knew the girl, so he could take it directly to her.  
  
He put it somewhere safe and made his way down the to dreary throne room for the dreary old speech that he heard every year. It was the Eve of May, and the Eve of May was all about getting the room ready for tomorrow.  
  
Frankly, he didn’t know why his father bothered to say anything. No one ever listened.  
  
-  
  
Merlin remembered to knock on Morgana’s door before he went in. He always had a habit of bursting in on people at the wrong moment. It was normally because he was in a hurry, but right now he was too drained to rush in. Still, he managed to smile again. Thinking about Gwen’s letter to him actually made him happy and flattered. It was a nice feeling to know that someone loved him; even if she loved Arthur too.  
  
It was probably the best he could ever hope for.  
  
Morgana opened the door herself; Gwen was nowhere in sight. She had probably gone to that meeting. She smiled, “Merlin, thank you for coming.”  
  
Merlin smiled back, “No problem.”  
  
They stood looking at each other for a while before Merlin realised he was staring again. He quickly thrust the willow bark and sleeping draft into Morgana’s hand.  
  
“Gaius said you wanted me to bring this,” he said.  
  
“Hmm,” Morgana murmured, as if she didn’t quite recall. “Oh, _yes_ , of course I did.”  
  
Merlin nodded and pointed towards the stairs, “Well, I better be—you know, off. Bye.”  
  
He turned to leave.  
  
“Wait, Merlin—” Morgana reached out and touched his shoulder.  
  
As soon as they made contact, for the first time in the time they had known each other, something happened to both of them.  
  
Morgana felt a rush of power run through her, stronger than anything she had ever felt. Then, for a moment she saw the eyes again, those eyes from her dream, the yellow demon eyes, staring back at her—she stumbled into him.  
  
Merlin turned to look at her, and in his mind he saw flashes of fire burning, of horses running, of Arthur, of Uther, and Gwen, and finally—he stumbled into her.  
  
“Sorry,” they both said in chorus.  
  
They were literally propping each other up. Merlin put his arms around Morgana’s waist to pull her straight, while she clutched one hand to his arm and one arm to his neck, still overpowered by that strange aura that had crushed her with just one touch. She felt it even as she held on to him. It felt like a giant pulse; she couldn’t tell whether the pulse was coming from her or him or both.  
  
What are you? She thought.  
  
A guard had heard the small movement, and leant over to look up the stairs to make sure all was well. Morgana saw out of the corner of her eye and looked at him. The guard scowled as Merlin turned and made a pathetic wave.  
  
Morgana was worried; this scene could be read in several ways, none of them especially appealing should they reach Uther’s ears. On the other hand, if magic was at the heart this strange embrace she wasn’t going to risk it happening in from of a guard.  
  
Morgana grabbed Merlin’s hand, “Inside.”  
  
“Huh, what—”  
  
But before he could object, Morgana had dragged him into her chambers, closed the door and locked in behind her.  
  
-  
  
Uther addressed the courtiers and servants with the same tyrannical voice he addressed the mob at an execution. He managed to add a tinge of joy to his voice, but otherwise it was the same old pompous voice.  
  
Arthur stood behind him, rubbing his eyes, unengaged with the ‘opening’ of the celebration. He noted that once again Morgana had not come down, and one again, Merlin had failed to appear.  
  
He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t end up in the stocks _again_ , he thought.  
  
He glanced around the room among the courtiers, noting the women in the crowd who looked at him, blushing and chuckling.  
  
He sighed and looked at the servants.  
  
They were quietly reserved, knowing that today would be hard work for them. But it was worth it on the day as they would be permitted to enjoy the celebrations – while working. Their one _real_ award was that if the work on the hall was done today they were allowed the morning and early afternoon of to go a-maying tomorrow.  
  
“I would also like to announce,” Uther went on, “That we will be receiving some special guests from many of the neighbouring countries in Albion. I am honoured to say that Gawain of Orkney will be arriving this evening to join the May Day celebrations here as an ambassador for his father…”  
  
Among the crowds Arthur spotted Morgana’s maidservant, Gwen. It didn’t dawn on him straight away but he realised on second glance that she was looking at him. The way he held his eyes it was obvious she hadn’t realised he had noticed her or was looking at her either. He remembered how un-damsel-like she had been the other night when he had aided her during that attack.  
  
And for one moment, one brief moment, he wondered—  
  
“…so let us go forth and pray that God blesses us with a rich and fruitful spring,” Uther finished, snapping Arthur out of his thoughts.  
  
The crowd brought their hands together and clapped as he sat down. As the crowd dispersed he motioned Arthur towards him.  
  
Arthur lent in as Uther hissed, “Where is that _damned_ servant of yours? I am this close to putting him in the stocks and leaving him there till he has ripened—”  
  
“Alas, father,” Arthur said, “my servant is an idiot but he is especially ineffective when he doesn’t know where he’s supposed to be.”  
  
“You mean you didn’t tell him?” Uther said coldly. “That damned boy is a danger to society. He’s going to be wandering around for the next few days having no idea what he’s doing.”  
  
“Then it will not affect performance as a servant,” Arthur said. Uther sniggered. “Merlin is a wonder, nonetheless. He’s damned pleasant company; everything you say to him either goes over his head or rolls off his back.”  
  
“I pity Gaius for being stuck with a ward like him,” the king scowled. He then calmed down and sighed, “He is close to you, nonetheless. I cannot deny that he is extremely loyal.”  
  
Uther then looked at the empty chair where Morgana usually sat. He looked at Arthur, face completely drained of his momentary amusement from seconds ago, “Where is Morgana?”  
  
Arthur shrugged, “Brushing her hair?”  
  
“I can’t help but notice this is also the second meeting she has missed,” Uther said, thoughtfully. “Just like your manservant.”  
  
“One is an idiot” Arthur explained indifferently, “The other is preoccupied with her looks. She’s probably still trying to decide what dress she’s going to wear.”  
  
Uther sat with his fingers covering her mouth, thinking. He pointed to Gwen who had been lingering behind as she was making her way out of the hall.  
  
“You, girl!” he called.  
  
Arthur watched as Gwen walked dutifully towards the king and lowered her head in a bow.  
  
“Where is your mistress?” the king asked.  
  
Gwen looked up, “When I left her she said she would be down momentarily.”  
  
“Hardly momentarily,” Uther stated. “Was she in any rush to be down here, or was she… waiting for someone?”  
  
Gwen didn’t want to say anything that would land Morgana in trouble, but on the face of it there seemed to be nothing to hide.  
  
“She did say…” she explained, glancing momentarily at Arthur. “She did say that she was waiting for Merlin to bring her some willow bark and another sleeping draft.”  
  
Uther considered this in his head; as he did so Arthur and Gwen glanced at each other and then at him, wondering what he was thinking.  
  
He nodded and dismissed Gwen, “Tell your mistress that her presence is no longer required and she needn’t come down. The speech is over.”  
  
Gwen nodded and moved the retreat, backing towards the door.  
  
“And,” he added, “If you should see Prince Arthur’s young manservant tell him that he should do his best to avoid me for the next few days. He doesn’t want to get on the wrong side of me.”  
  
The maid nodded, took one last lingering look at Arthur, and dashed off before any more could be said.  
  
Uther addressed Arthur without looking at him, “You can pass on that message too. An idiot like him will probably need to hear it twice.”  
  
The king swept off toward the backdoor, followed by some of his waiting ‘admirers’ of the court.  
  
Arthur sighed. He then remembered the letter. He needed to have it delivered by tonight; otherwise she would not get it before May Day. He turned and rushed out the door Gwen had gone through. He saw her walking up the corridor.  
  
“Gwen” he called.  
  
Gwen stopped in her tracks and turned slowly, looking slightly dazed and doe eyed. He came up to her with a straight face. He spoke in that rich, nasal voice of a royal prince. It was slightly more soothing than normal. The same voice as the letter-writer, the voice Gwen heard in her head as she read them.  
  
“Yes, highness?” she said, lowering her head.  
  
He stood in front of her and motioned his hand for her to raise her head.  
  
“Gwen, if you should see him before I do, can you tell Merlin to come straight to my chambers. I have something I want him to deliver for me. He’ll understand. Okay?”  
  
She nodded, “Yes, sire.”  
  
Gwen turned and walked blankly away.  
  
Something to for him to deliver, she wondered.  
  
Her ears were burning, and she wondered if maybe that letter she had written, the last letter, may truly be the last. The thought made her feel suddenly nauseous and dizzy. The thought was truly painful…  
  
Arthur watched her go, and wondered where Merlin had been. If he’d managed to get to the meeting then he could have delivered that letter already. The girl, the letter writer, his sweetheart could have already had the letter safely in her hands.  
  
Merlin said he knew her, Arthur thought. Why did he keep this secret from me? Maybe he only just found out himself. He said it was one of his friends.  
  
Trouble was that Arthur didn’t know many of Merlin’s friends. He’d never really thought about it. The only female friend he knew Merlin had is his little girlfriend, Gwen herself. Of course, Merlin always denied outright that they were anything more than friends.  
  
At that moment a strange thought entered Arthur’s head. It was an option he had never considered before, possibly because his ego didn’t cover it. It was just a brief flicker of enlightenment…  
  
“Guinevere!”  
  
The sound of her own name pierced right through her. He might as well run her through with his sword. She turned swiftly, “Yes, sire?”  
  
There was a short pause.  
  
Arthur turned away and murmured under his breath, “No, never mind.”  
  
-  
  
Gwen wandered towards Morgana’s room in a small run. She was desperate to get away from that small moment in the corridor lest she’d end up daydreaming. Her heart felt as if it might be failing, her stomach was turning and her breath was quick. Her mind was boiling over with all kinds of thoughts.  
  
How could she ever find it in herself to tell Arthur the truth?  
  
The truth was that she couldn’t.  
  
Every time she saw him, she felt like speaking to him the way she had in her letters, forgetting completely that he was the prince and she was a serving girl.  
  
There were wives that called their husband ‘sire’ but they were normally the arranged marriages, the one Arthur was probably expecting one day. It was not the way two people who were supposed to love each other should speak to each other.  
  
She tried to fix herself before entering Morgana’s chambers; she didn’t want to worry her twice in one day. Besides, it was the Eve of May. It was a time to be happy. Tomorrow was May Day, and she always went a-maying with the other servants.  
  
She tried the door; it was locked. She knocked, “Milady, are you okay?”  
  
The door opened straight away. Morgana opened it and smiled. “Sorry about that. I wanted privacy from the guard.”  
  
“Sorry it took so long to get back, milady,” Gwen said as she walked into the room forcing a smile. “The meeting overran…”  
  
As she walked in she saw Merlin leap up from the couch. He stood awkwardly, wondering if he should explain when Morgana stepped in.  
  
“That’s fine, Gwen,” she said. “Merlin came to bring my sleeping draft, we got to talking and I’m afraid I kept him longer than I should have.”  
  
Gwen stared at him. What had he been doing with Morgana in a locked room? Merlin awkwardly avoided her eyes; that could only mean that he had read the letter. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her own awkwardness bubbled back to the service.  
  
Morgana was swift to take control once again.  
  
“Merlin,” she said smiling. “It was nice talking to you.”  
  
He nodded and forced a smile of his own, “Yes, it was really nice.”  
  
There was a short pause as the two of them regarded each other. Gwen didn’t really see what it was but there was an odd ‘understanding’ that passed between them. Finally Merlin turned to leave.  
  
“I’ll be – off, then. Bye!”  
  
He hurried passed Gwen. She called after him, “Arthur wants you to go straight to his chambers. He wants you to deliver something for him.”  
  
Merlin stopped in the doorway, without turning. “Thanks.”  
  
After he left, Morgana sat back down in her chair and picked up a cup of wine. “Did I miss anything interesting?”  
  
Gwen was in another daze, “Sorry, milady?”  
  
“The meeting,” Morgana explained. “Did I miss anything interesting?”  
  
“Oh,” she said, “No, not really, only the announcement that Prince Gawain of Orkney is arriving this evening to stay here for the May Day celebrations.”  
  
Morgana walked over to her new mirror and sat down. “Yes, Uther told me the other night he was coming. As a matter of fact Arthur, a couple of select nobles and I are due to dine with him upon arrival.”  
  
Gwen smiled, and went over to brush Morgana’s hair. As she did she looked out of the window. For some reason, she imagined seeing Arthur down there in the courtyard like she had so many times before. She imagined him on horse back, like in her dream a few nights ago. He looked so handsome, in her thoughts and reality.  
  
Morgana chuckled, “He is _very_ handsome.”  
  
“Yes,” Gwen said dreamily. “I suppose he is.”


	10. Chapter 10

Merlin walked into Arthur’s room. As soon as he heard the door close, Arthur stormed up to Merlin. His eyes were big and glaring, the typical drunken husband wife face. And it got worse. Not only was he ready to insult him; he was ready to yell at him too.  
  
“What the hell happened to you earlier?” Arthur snapped.  
  
“Oh, is this about the meeting?” Merlin said, trying to sound stupid. It wasn’t very difficult. “Yes, I heard about it and I was going to come, but then suddenly… I didn’t.”  
  
Arthur managed to calm down, “Fine, Merlin. I know you don’t have a good excuse so I won’t force you to come up with a bad one.”  
  
“Thank you, sire.”  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes; it had been a frustrating day so far. “Just don’t do it next year; my father is _this close_ to not only locking you in the stocks for the entire course of the May celebrations but stringing you up by your thumbs.”  
  
Merlin nodded absently, “Thank you for the warning, sire.”  
  
Arthur fell into his chair and straight away picked up the letter. Merlin eyed it from the corner of his eye. The prince ran his fingers over the words he had written and held it to his lips, thinking, as if whispering his thoughts to her through the page. He then handed the sealed letter to Merlin.  
  
“Will you deliver this to the girl?” he asked. “There seems no point in leaving it in the alcove if you know who she is.”  
  
Merlin nodded, “I suppose so.”  
  
The prince stood for a while, holding out the letter for Merlin to take. “Go on, Merlin, get it to her.”  
  
“I’ll only take it if you promise me something.”  
  
Merlin put his hands behind his back to show he was serious. Arthur stared at him, surprised. Not many servants demanded a promise from their royal highness, the prince. Then again Merlin had never cared much for decorum when it came to princes; it was how they met.  
  
Merlin was quite unique; the only other servant who had ever stood up to him was Gwen.  
  
“Promise you something?” Arthur finally said.  
  
Merlin just stared at him in silence. He wanted to pick his words carefully. “The other man asked me to make you promise.”  
  
The prince stared at him, “The _other_ man? Who is he, and who is he to make me promise anything!?”  
  
Merlin went white, “He wishes to remain… anonymous.”  
  
Arthur sighed, “What do I have to promise?”  
  
“I want you to promise me,” Merlin said seriously, “that you aren’t just leading my friend along, that you really do love her. I want you to promise that you will still love her when she finally gets the courage to tell you who she is, no matter what. I want you to promise that you’ll” he stopped, trying to think of the right words. “Promise that you will love her more than him.”  
  
The answer came without a moment of hesitation, “I promise.”  
  
“Seriously, you do?”  
  
“Of course I do,” the prince said, staring at him. “I love her.”  
  
Arthur stopped suddenly. He fidgeted uncomfortably, as if saying such words was a threat to his masculinity, or at least confiding in Merlin was.  
  
He finally went on, “I don’t know how it can be since I don’t know who she is but… I feel as if I already know her.” He looked at Merlin, “You can tell your ‘friend’ that Arthur Pendragon swears on the kingdom of Camelot that it is so.”  
  
Merlin looked at Arthur’s face, making sure that the sincerity in his eyes was genuine and not just a prince trying to get what he wants. Merlin was convinced that Arthur truly was in love.  
  
The way he spoke was unlike anything he has ever heard from his master before. It was a good side of Arthur that had come to the surface, and Merlin hoped it would stay. What made it better was that it was Gwen bringing the good out in him.  
  
In that moment, however, he realised that he might well be bringing together his master and his friend; _the prince and the handmaiden_.  
  
Merlin did love Gwen, in his own way. He couldn’t explain what his way was but, had Arthur not been able to promise, his way _might_ have been enough. But looking at Arthur he could tell that his love was strongest.  
  
Merlin smiled, “Then I’ll take the letter to her.”  
  
Arthur nodded and handed him the letter. The manservant turned to deliver it straight away. As he went out the door, Arthur called to him.  
  
“Merlin, two things before you go. Firstly, could you prepare the room three doors down; that is where Prince Gawain will be staying—”  
  
“Who is Prince Gawain?”  
  
“If you had been to the meeting you’d know that.”  
  
“Sorry. I’ll get to it as soon as I get back.”  
  
“And Merlin…”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
Arthur paused and managed to smile, “I just wanted to say… I don’t hold it against you.”  
  
Merlin didn’t know what he meant at first. Then it suddenly clicked. He awkwardly looked away and murmured a thank you before fleeing the door.  
  
It was strange. Everything went over Arthur’s head; his magic, who the girl was, everything! But that he manages to work out…  
  
Maybe there was a brain in there after all.  
  
-  
  
Uther held an informal reception for the young Orcadian prince when he arrived in the late evening. He had not seen Gawain since he was sixteen years old when King Lot had visited Camelot to renew the peace treaty between their two kingdoms. Lot had brought his wife Anna, their children, and an army of five hundred to stamp home the point to the other southern kingdoms of just how easy it was for King Lot to march across Albion and take them.   
  
There once was a time when both kings made visits to each other's kingdoms once a year when the children were younger; one of Lot and Anna's children, Agravain, had actually been born in Camelot during one of their state visits. They were one large family.   
  
It was through the queen that Arthur was related – Queen Anna of Orkney being Queen Igraine of Camelot’s younger sister – which, in a way, Uther acknowledged, made Gawain a legitimate claim to the throne of Camelot should something unthinkable happen to Arthur and himself.  
  
This was why Uther wished to greet the young prince both warmly and cautiously.   
  
Uther had heard so much about Gawain. He was eighteen months younger than Arthur, said to be tall, fair, handsome, noble and various other redeeming qualities, right down to his skills as a warrior. Although, Gawain himself conceded, he was not as talented as ‘The Great Arthur’.  
  
Uther, Arthur and Morgana along with the few select of the nobility waited eagerly as the escorts of Orkney ushered themselves into the throne room before the prince himself appeared. He was everything that the rumours had said; tall, fair and handsome. He looked mature for a young man just shy of twenty.  
  
He bowed his head to Uther who stood from his throne and went to greet him with a smile.  
  
“Your majesty,” Gawain said kneeling respectfully to the king. “My father has sent me as an ambassador for the people of Orkney. I’m honoured to be a guest at your court.”  
  
Uther put his hands on his shoulders and raised him up, “Please, nephew, no need to prostrate yourself on ceremony. We are still family.”  
  
Gawain smiled, “Thank you, uncle.”  
  
Uther wanted to make the young man welcome; he had come from a long way. Moreover, family or not, a long way wasn’t too far for Lot’s armies should he feel obliged to send them to Camelot. Family or not, Lot had never been an especially good-tempered brother-in-law or king. When Uther had told Arthur this the look on his face seemed to ask ‘Then why don’t you talk more often?’  
  
“How is your father?” the king asked.  
  
“Well, he sends you all his greetings,” Gawain replied.  
  
“And how is your mother?”  
  
“Still as beautiful as ever,” the young man replied. “She more or less runs the country now while father takes care of defending the kingdom. That suits her well; she told him last year that she didn't want any more children.”  
  
Uther couldn't blame her. Anna would be forty in two years and he felt she was entilted to make that request. She had given Lot six children; she owed him nothing. “How old is the youngest Gareth?”  
  
“He’s seven now and already wants to be a knight.”  
  
“Well, when he reaches sixteen send him our way. And how is the rest of the family?”  
  
Gawain threw his head back and laughed, “Where do I start? Agravain is sixteen now, and wishes to travel here to join the Knights of Camelot. Father is naturally unwilling to send him away to serve – he is ‘the spare’ after all. If it wasn’t for the fact that I am heir to Orkney I would have come here _years_ ago.”  
  
Uther smiled, uncertain whether Gawain was just flattering him or was being honest.  
  
"The twins have made an idol of him” Gawain went on. The twins were the two younger daughters Clarissant and Norcadet. The eldest daughter and second child was Elaine. “My sisters have all inherited the DuBois looks, especially Elaine.”  
  
“It must be very busy in your palace,” Morgana said, grinning.  
  
“And expensive” Gawain replied with a chuckle. Like a gentleman he kissed Morgana’s hand and gave her his finest smile, “Morgana, it is so good to see you again. Stories had reached our court of your strength of will as well as your beauty. It seems both are true.”  
  
“Well,” Morgana said, glancing at Arthur, “it’s nice to know _someone_ acknowledges my strength of will.”  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes. Gawain noticed, “I find it a virtue in a woman to have a strong mind.” He then turned to Arthur, “It is good to see you again.”  
  
“It has been – _more_ than a while,” Arthur replied.  
  
The two looked at each other before laughing and embracing like cousins should. Gawain laughed again, “It _is_ good to see you, cousin.”  
  
“And you,” Arthur replied. “What has it been – four years?”  
  
“Nearly five,” Gawain said, his tone changing to a more nostalgic one. “Indeed, half a decade had passed since then. You’d never think we were cousins.”  
  
Uther watched his son and nephew. He couldn’t help but feel that it was unfair the way things turned out. Igraine had been infertile, had only able to conceive through magic and died giving birth because of it. In comparison Anna had mothered many children for King Lot, and was still capable of producing them. It was a wonder that little Gareth existed.  
  
“Gawain” Uther said, finally interrupting. “How would you like to take part in the May Day games during your stay? Your father wishes you to avoid swordfights while you are away from home but I understand you are also good at jousting.”  
  
“If your majesty will allow me,” Gawain said. “I would be honoured to take part. I will all accept any challenges from any of the other knights, should they like to face me.” He looked at Morgana, “I always like a challenge.”  
  
“Maybe I’ll challenge you,” Morgana suggested.  
  
“I don’t think I’d subject myself to that again,” Gawain replied. He elbowed Arthur, “She beat me last time, _both of us_.”  
  
Arthur turned, “She did not beat me! I tripped over the cobbles and she—”  
  
“Five years later and he’s still sore!” Morgana teased.  
  
“There is no shame in it, Arthur” Gawain replied. “I used to get touchy when my sister Elaine used to beat me too.”  
  
-  
  
Later that evening Gwen opened the door and found Merlin standing there. He looked so completely earnest, even for him. She had been dreading his visit all day. Part of her knew what he was coming to tell her, but there was still a part of her that tried to forget the embarrassing situation they had found themselves in.  
  
“Hi” he whispered. “Can I talk to you?”  
  
Gwen nodded and stepped outside, closing the door behind her to keep the conversation secret from her father.  
  
“Right—” he began.  
  
“Wait!” Gwen interrupted. “I’m sorry, but, I think I know what you’re going to say. And just before you begin; I’m fine, I promise.”  
  
Merlin nodded, “Well, the thing is this. Gwen, I’ve been thinking a lot about what that letter you sent me. I want you to know that I really, really like you but—” he paused. “Even though, in a mirror, we look rather nice next to each other, I don’t think I can offer anything good enough to warrant your love.”  
  
Gwen looked down and forced a smile; she knew it was coming, and even though she had already concluded she was now in love with Arthur she still loved Merlin, and it still stung.  
  
“Plus,” he went on, back against a wooden pillar near by. “There are so many things you don’t know about me. I think the reason you liked me is because you think I’m… more ordinary than I really am, if you know what I mean.”  
  
Gwen nodded, “I suppose so.”  
  
“But,” he said jumping up and smiling, “for what it’s worth – you’re the first girl to ever tell me she likes me.”  
  
Her face lit up, “R-really?”  
  
He nodded.  
  
“I’m surprised,” she replied.  
  
“Really?” he said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“Yeah,” Gwen said chuckling self-consciously. “You’re really funny and nice and… easy on the eyes. That’s why I liked you.”  
  
“I’m flattered,” Merlin replied with his simple smile. “And also, for what it’s worth, you’re the first girl ever to kiss me. I’ll never forget that.”  
  
Gwen covered her mouth, hiding her chuckles; “I was just so worried about you…”  
  
“I’m dead flattered” he said chuckling. Then he cleared his throat awkwardly, “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that and to make sure we are still best of friends…”  
  
Gwen nodded and smiled, “Of course we’re still friends. Really, I’m fine.”  
  
Merlin was clearly unconvinced. He leant forward and placed a chaste kiss on Gwen’s cheek. As he did, she closed her eyes and smiled with warmth. She had desperately wanted this sort of contact from him for so long. The smell of flower petals, cotton and old books lingered in her nose. Yet at the same time there was nothing romantic about the kiss; it was the kiss of a friend. For a brief moment she wondered if she’d ever kiss the man she loved now. She doubted it.  
  
As he pulled away they both smiled. Merlin then reached into his pocket and handed her a letter, “Here you are. Arthur told me to get it straight to you.”  
  
She looked at him, “You didn’t tell him that—”  
  
“No, no, no. He doesn’t know it’s you, but he does know I know you.”  
  
Gwen sighed, “It could be worse. This’ll probably be the last letter I’ll ever read from him.”  
  
Merlin grinned, “I bet it isn’t.”  
  
She looked at him with earnest eyes, hoping he was right.  
  
“You better get home,” Gwen said. “Gaius will be wondering where you are.”  
  
“He probably will,” the young man replied. “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow for the May Day picnic.”


	11. Chapter 11

Merlin opened his eyes.  
  
It was morning. From outside his window he could already hear excited voices lofting in from the yard below him. The entire court had awakened to the first of May. He couldn’t help but grin as people excitedly ran about carrying flowers and instruments. He was surprised at how excited _he_ was about today.  
  
It was an actual day off, for one thing.  
  
He quickly got dressed and rushed out into the main room where Gaius already had breakfast on the table. It was simple bread and cheese but it would do. He picked it up and ate it by the window. From where he stood he saw some of the servants already gathering in the courtyard. There were loud howls of laughter coming from below.  
  
Gregory looked up and saw Merlin. He waved, “Hey Merlin get down here – we’ll be off soon!”  
  
“Be down in two minutes” he shouted.  
  
Gaius rolled his eyes and groaned, “Good God, _it’s started_.”  
  
Merlin turned to look at him, “What has started?”  
  
“May,” he grumbled. “Everyone your age goes _mad_ on May Day.”  
  
“What’d you mean?” the young man asked, chuckling. “It’s a holiday.”  
  
“A holiday where everyone between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five run around like animals on heat” Gaius said plainly.  
  
Merlin nearly chocked on his bread, “That was pretty frank. I mean you must have been young… once upon a time.”  
  
Gaius looked at him, eyebrows raised, “Once upon a time?”  
  
“I didn’t mean it to sound nasty,” Merlin said. “I just meant that it was a very, very long time ago, wasn’t it?”  
  
Gaius looked at him. “The celebration of May Day was nothing like today. It was a serious holiday where people prayed for good harvests. It was back in the days when, where I came from, the druids were in influence, before Uther put them down.”  
  
“Then why do we celebrate May Day?” Merlin said. “I thought Uther hated everything to do with the old ways.”  
  
“It’s a good excuse for a knees up, that’s why” Gaius replied frankly, letting a snigger go by.  
  
Merlin laughed and began to pack a blanket for the picnic that afternoon.  
  
“Truth is I’m too old to appreciate May anymore,” the old man said. He waved his hand to shoo Merlin off, “Go on and enjoy the day. Run around like a headless chicken, kiss complete strangers and wake up in a trough with your neckerchief tied around your head singing a song terribly out of tune, like you always do when out on the town.”  
  
Merlin stopped still, “That was _one time_!”  
  
“Well now you have an excuse to do it,” Gaius replied. “Now off with you.”  
  
Merlin chuckled again. Even if Gaius didn’t appreciate May Day any more it certainly raised his sense of humour. He packed what he needed and made his way towards the door; it was strange but Gaius was right. He _did_ have the desire to run around like a headless chicken.  
  
“I wouldn’t dare stay a minute longer!” he said, stuffing his cheese in his mouth. “See you tonight at the party.”  
  
“Have you sorted out your mask?” Gaius asked before Merlin disappeared out the door. “Everyone wears a mask, even me.”  
  
“I think Gwen is lending me something—you? You have to wear a mask?” Merlin said in surprise. “What is it?”  
  
Gaius rolled his eyes and shooed him off again, “You’ll find out later now go, go, I have things to do and you’ll get under my feet.”  
  
“What do you have to do on May Day?”  
  
“Goodbye, Merlin” the old man finished.  
  
“Alright, alright, I’m going!”  
  
As soon as the door closed Gaius’s face became serious. He picked up a note he had been concealing in one of his medical books. Uther had sent it the other day, asking to see him. It was never good news when you received a letter like that from the king. It always meant trouble, and Gaius had an awful feeling that it had Merlin written all over it.  
  
-  
  
Morgana watched from her window as servants gathered in the courtyard. It was May Day and that meant that Gwen had the day off to go a-maying with the other servants before the masked ball that night. Morgana liked to watch the freedom the servants had on that one day. It seemed it was the only freedom they had was that one morning and early afternoon, and for that reason they relished in it.  
  
She saw Merlin run out into the courtyard, greeted by some of the other servants. She turned away from the window to look at the other ladies of the court getting ready in her room. Every year they also went a-maying also.  
  
The women were helping each other with their hair and clothing. The jobs usually done by their servants were carried out by their friends. All of them were dressed modestly in light green, yellow and white dresses with garlands of flowers in their hair.  
  
Morgana put her own garland of flowers and looked at herself in the mirror. It was nice to look natural. When she was younger she had always been the May Queen and had loved the flower crown.  
  
“You look beautiful, Morgana” said one lady.  
  
“She always looks beautiful,” said another.  
  
Once lady called Celia looked out the window to see the knights and young nobleman gather in the courtyard. They were also dressed in casual wear, fit for rolling around in the glass in. Then out came Arthur, dressed in his better attire suggesting that he wasn’t going to the celebrations, and Gawain, the young visitor from Orkney, also dressed in his casual wear.  
  
Celia giggled and called the others over, “Everyone, it’s Gawain!”  
  
The young ladies rushed to the windows to look. Morgana laughed as they did; Gawain always had that effect on girls from the moment he reached adolescences. Now he was teetering on adulthood it was becoming more apparent. The girls giggled insanely, opening the windows to peer out. Morgana came to one of the windows too. They waved and called out to him:  
  
“Good morning, Gawain!” two said in chorus.  
  
Gawain, Arthur, several of the knights, and even the servants looked up. Arthur rolled his eyes, the servants laughed, and the knights nudged Gawain.  
  
“You’re already making a good impression,” Sir Kay said to him.  
  
Gawain waved in his genteel manner to them all and smiled, “Good morning, ladies.”  
  
“Are coming a-maying with us, Gawain?” asked Lady Celia.  
  
“Of course I am,” he assured her. “I wouldn’t miss it.”  
  
Arthur put his hands on his hips and scowled. The women in the court like that annoyed him. One of the most appealing things about the letter writer is that she didn’t shower him with praises. Gawain on the other hand was a lady’s man. The women loved him and he loved the women; his good nature drew them to him, and he was fighting them away like bees around honey.  
  
Being princes Arthur and Gawain didn’t have to try to gain the attention of beautiful women. The difference was that Arthur no longer relished in it – maybe Gawain would be the same when he finally fell in love.  
  
Merlin appeared in the courtyard to meet with the other servants and looked up at Morgana and the other noblewomen leaning out the windows, talking to Gawain. He couldn’t help stare a little, as he always did when he saw pretty girls, before bumping into Gregory who was loading a cart with some basic instruments. Gwen had said there would be a song and dance.  
  
“What’s going on?” he asked.  
  
“Prince Gawain,” Gregory replied. “God that man is like God’s gift to women. You had to sort him out didn’t you, being Arthur’s servant – and I’m still sorry about that, by the way, no one deserves him as a master – what’s he like?”  
  
Merlin shrugged, “He’s alright. Very polite, friendly, and he didn’t order me around. He’s a nice guy. You’re right; the girls can’t keep their eyes off him.”  
  
“Is he anything like Arthur?”  
  
“Why’d you say that?”  
  
“They’re cousins.”  
  
“Are they?” Merlin said, surprised Arthur hadn’t mentioned it. Then again if he’d been at the meeting he might have known. “Now that you mention it they do look alike. I’d say Gawain is what Arthur would be like if he were a gentleman.”  
  
Gregory laughed, “Come on – we’re going out into the fields to set up day. Are you coming?”  
  
“I’ll be with you in a minute,” he said making his way out of the courtyard. “I have to get Gwen.”  
  
“Tell her to remember the sandwiches for the picnic,” he called after him. “Last time she forgot them and we ended up drinking all afternoon.”  
  
Merlin raised an eyebrow, “Is that a bad thing?”  
  
“It is for you!” one other servant called. “Let’s not remind ourselves what you were like at the knighting ceremony of Sir Percival.”  
  
As Merlin disappeared out of the courtyard, Arthur watched and wondered whether the letter writer was among the servants fussing around before him. They loaded up the cart and made their way off to the outer city, where they normally had a song and dance before the picnic.  
  
Arthur had never really been one for May Day; the servants always seemed to get more out of it than he did. On the other hand there was little difference between what the servants did and what the nobility did on May Day. Both of them had a song and dance, both of them had a picnic, and both of them spent the morning chasing the girls around while they gathered flowers for garlands.  
  
“I’m going to talk to my father” Arthur said to Gawain, who wasn’t especially listening, and disappeared inside the castle again.  
  
From her window Morgana watched him and sighed. It seemed that Arthur just couldn’t get into the spirit of things this year, he never could. He’d always join the party after the fun was over and everyone has settled down to eat. This year was different though. It wasn’t that he was being awkward; he was distracted.  
  
Morgana came away from the window. “Come on, ladies. It’s time we were off. If we don’t collect those flowers…” she paused and laughed, “Doesn’t make much of a difference. But it is tradition.”  
  
Two of the ladies turned to talk to each other:  
  
“My brother has already challenged him to a joust.”  
  
“He hasn’t?”  
  
“He has,” the girl replied. “Do you suppose Arthur will challenge him?”  
  
“Oh, I’d like to see that!”  
  
“What a treat for the eyes!”  
  
“Come on” Morgana called to them. “We can all stare at the knights later – if they can catch us, that is!”  
  
They all burst out into laughter and filed out of the room, chattering away about the day and the masked ball that evening.  
  
-  
  
Gaius had been called the throne room to meet with Uther. He couldn’t imagine why on the morning of May Day Uther should desire an audience with him. He had a horrible feeling it had something to do with Merlin. He knew it couldn’t be that he’d found out about Merlin’s magic; he’d only just left Merlin, who seemed to have a spring in his step brought on by more than the excitement of May Day.  
  
Yet it was all too like the recurring nightmare Gaius would have during times of magical crisis.  
  
In his nightmares Uther always called Gaius to his presence to tell him that he had arrested Merlin and was sentencing to death. Not be beheading, as most men accused of magic were, but by burning. That was the worst death any sorcerer could be condemned to. The thought of Merlin dying such a painful and drawn out death made him feel sick with fear, and he knew that he’d do anything to prevent it.  
  
He’d even take the blame for the magic himself.  
  
He walked into the throne room where many of the palace servants had only the previous night been rushing about trying to put up the decorations, rearrange the tables and hang the drapes before May Day. They had done a brilliant job. Now, as tradition stood, they have been given the morning and afternoon off to go a-maying with the young nobles and ladies.  
  
At the other of the hall end talking to some other courtiers was Uther.  
  
Gaius walked towards him a bowed, Uther turned and smiled. “Gaius, thank you for coming so quickly; I’m sorry to have called you away from your work. I know how busy are.”  
  
“It is no trouble, sire,” Gaius replied.  
  
Uther presented the room to him and smiled, “What do you think. I say this every year but the May Day decorations get better every year, wouldn’t you agree?”  
  
“Indeed, sire.”  
  
“I enjoy the May Day morning and afternoon; no young people in the castle until evening,” the king said, walking towards the window. Outside he could see two young servants walking towards the fields outside the castle, arm in arm, laughing as they went. “It seems everyone on the verge of adulthood goes mad on the first of May.”  
  
“It’s their mating season, sire” said one of the nobles.  
  
There was a short pompous wave of sniggering before Uther turned back to Gaius. He drew him aside, away from the old nobles, and spoke quietly, “I’d like to speak to you about your dogsbody.”  
  
“Merlin,” the old man said. He knew it would be about Merlin.  
  
“Indeed,” the king replied. “I assume he went a-maying with the others?”  
  
“He left as I was leaving.”  
  
“Remind me, where does he come from?”  
  
“From the village of Ealdor, sire,” he replied.  
  
“A respectable village, I assume?”  
  
“Indeed, sire.”  
  
Uther thought, “Ealdor… I seem to recall that was the village you came from, wasn’t it?”  
  
“My father lived there for a time, yes,” Gaius explained. “It was Merlin’s mother who sent him to me to complete his education.”  
  
Uther nodded, he was clearly leading up to something and Gaius dreaded to think what it was. “Tell me Gaius; was the boy aware of the meeting yesterday?”  
  
That confused him. Gaius spoke, “I told him to make his way there as soon as he finished delivering his rounds…”  
  
“His rounds to the Lady Morgana,” Uther finished.  
  
“Yes,” Gaius said. “Forgive me, sire…”  
  
“I understand you’re confused,” the king replied. “You see my son’s young manservant failed to turn up to the meeting, _again_.”  
  
Gaius rolled his eyes, “I do apologise, sire. He hit his head last time but I cannot account for why he failed to turn up this time, although I’m sure he had his reason; his workload his very high at the moment no thanks to me.”  
  
“Come now, Gaius” Uther replied, just managing to smile, “you don’t have to make excuses for that boy. He has his head in the clouds. I will not lie to you, Gaius, when I say that one of the only reasons I allow Arthur to keep him is because he has grown so fond of him.”  
  
“I understand, sire” Gaius said. I’m going to ring his neck when I get home, he thought.  
  
“Hit his head, you say?” Uther said, not all that surprised if he had.  
  
“Yes, sire,” Gaius replied. “Apparently he fell over and he landed on his head, or at least that’s what he and Morgana said…”  
  
This caught the king’s attention; he couldn’t help smirking, “He was with Morgana when he hit his head?”  
  
Gaius paused, and decided to play it down, “I don’t know, sire.”  
  
Uther looked at him for a moment, thinking.  
  
At that moment Arthur wandered into the throne room. Gaius was pleased to see him; it might distract Uther from his thoughts. And it did.  
  
“Arthur, what are you doing here still?”  
  
“I didn’t feel like going on the picnic” he replied.  
  
“And who will be chaperoning Morgana while you’re here?”  
  
Arthur couldn’t help laughing, “She doesn’t need a chaperon, father. If any man tried something she’d have his—”  
  
“Nonetheless,” Uther butted in, “this picnic is tradition for the young people of the court, and the young servants. Even your manservant is out there and God have mercy on us all if he comes back tipsy…”  
  
“Father, I just—”  
  
“It is also tradition for us older people to find peace and quiet and rest while the youngsters are out of the court,” the king finished. “I’m not asking you to chase the girls around or gather flowers or even eat anything on the picnic. I just think you should enjoy your last years of freedom.”  
  
“What do you mean ‘my last years of freedom’?” Arthur queried.  
  
“You are of age, Arthur” Uther replied. “The time will soon come for you to… carry out the last task that, as crown prince, you are expected to fulfil.”  
  
Arthur glanced at Gaius before looking at his father; have an heir, was what he meant. Truth was that he hadn’t even thought about marriage. He was too tried up in his secret love letters to his secret sweetheart to think about who he would marry or when it would occur. He wasn’t interested in marriage. He knew it was his duty, but he didn’t want to think about it. There was a very good chance that his sweetheart, the woman who wrote the letters, was not the sort of woman his father would… approve of.  
  
In short, she was mistress material. Not wife.  
  
Arthur didn’t say anything, though. He couldn’t very well question his duty, especially since he’d never thought to before. He swallowed and nodded, “I understand, father.”  
  
Uther nodded, “Good. Now go and enjoy yourself. If I could go back in time to when I was twenty-one, I’d be out there right now enjoying myself. Tragically not only am I not twenty-one but I am king. You never find time for trivial pleasures when you are king, and one day it will be you.”  
  
“Yes, father” Arthur said. He was only half listening; the day was so lazy, and all he could think about was her and whether she would meet him.  
  
After Arthur left the throne room Uther leant over to Gaius and whispered, “He’s been acting very oddly lately.”  
  
“Oddly, sire?”  
  
“Yes” Uther said curiously. “That boy hasn’t mentioned anything about Arthur, has he?”  
  
Gaius shook his head. Then he remembered what Merlin had told him nearly two weeks ago, that Arthur had a sweetheart. Maybe that was what was distracting him. It wasn’t his place to say, though, so he kept shaking his head. “I’m afraid not, sire.”  
  
The king thought for a moment longer. Finally he smiled and patted Gaius on the shoulder, “Thank you for your time, Gaius. I’ll let you get back to enjoying your time off without having to look after that foolish boy. Please be sure to remind young Merlin to keep his head out of the clouds. He’ll be less likely to lose it that way.”  
  
“I’ll be sure to remind him, sire.”


	12. Chapter 12

Gwen sat reading the letter over and over again.

‘ _I must confess—that I am in love with you.’_

She had not got a wink of sleep, and instead just lay in bed under the covers thinking of the words. Part of her wondered what she had got herself into—what had she got herself into? He was a prince, and royal prince of Camelot and she was a serving girl. Her mind told her that the whole thing was madness, that as soon as he realised it was her he’d reject her in the lofty was she’d always expected Arthur to.

But the man himself was different.

She read the words over and over and over in her head:

‘ _The only thing that seems to make it impossible is your constant belief that it cannot be possible…’_

Was that true?

Could there be a possibility for them if she would believe it for long enough? Gwen kept telling herself that the letters were nothing but the stuff of fantasy. It was the fantasy every girl had – the dream that a prince would sweep them off their feet, carry them off to their castle and they’d live happily ever after. Gwen was a realist.

_What more can I do to explain on paper how much I love you despite having never seen your face. The answer is nothing._

The letters had limits. It wasn’t possible to fall in love with someone over what they write, was it? Or was it? In letters, in writing in general, you could bare your soul to someone in a way you just couldn’t in spoken words.

“Father” Gwen called.

“Hmm”

“Did you ever write love letters to mother when you first knew her?”

Tom looked around the corner to see his daughter sitting on her bed. “Why’d you ask me that of all things on May Day?”

“I’m just curious.”

He laughed, “Well, in that case, yes I did. Not very good ones mind but I did. Then again, of course, she couldn’t read or write very well.”

“Couldn’t she?”

“No, she was a labourer’s daughter,” he explained. “Her father never educated her, not like I did with you. There wasn’t enough money to by books for them, you see.”

Gwen turned and looked at him, “I knew she was—lower than you—in status. I didn’t realise she was that low.”

“Your mother died so young, Gwen” he replied. “I just never saw the need to tell you about it. Besides, you never asked.”

“I never thought about it until now” she said under her breath. “Why did you marry her?”

Tom looked at her as if she was daft, “The same reason any man should marry a woman—because I loved her.”

“Even though she had nothing to offer you,” Gwen said.

“Not a penny to her name,” Tom replied. “But that didn’t matter to me. My father, your grandfather, he wasn’t half furious when I came to him and said I wanted to marry her, waving hot irons at me. ‘Blacksmith’s sons don’t marry peasants’ he said.”

“How did you convince him?”

“I didn’t,” Tom replied. “He died. There was a plague going around at the time and he got it, poor old git.”

Gwen smiled. “It never occurred to me that there was status in the lower class, but there is, isn’t there?”

“Well,” he shrugged, “You and I aren’t rich but we do alright, don’t we? I always made sure we didn’t starve and that you could read and write, didn’t I?”

Gwen smiled, “Yes, you did.”

“Now, why are you asking me about love letters?” Tom asked, changing the subject slightly. “Have you got a sweetheart or something?”

Gwen blushed and, unable to stop herself, began to giggle.

“You have, haven’t you?” he said teasingly. “Who is it? Let me guess… oh, no! It’s _him_ isn’t it?”

“And who would ‘him’ be?”

“That lad with the ears,” Tom said, gesturing towards his own ears, “The dark haired one with the daft grin. Nice lad, bit odd.”

She shook her head, “Dad, leave him alone. His ears are lovely and he has a charming smile.”

“Well, he has my blessing” her father replied. “He has a promising future ahead of him as dogsbody to Gaius and servant to Prince Arthur. I want you to have a man who will look after you when I’m gone.”

There was a knock at the door. Tom glanced out the window and laughed, “Oh, here he is now, the blue-eyed boy-wonder. Come to ask me for a dowry, has he?”

“Dad, stop it!”

Gwen quickly slipped her shoes on and stood in front of the polished brass that was her mirror. She quickly clipped her flowers into her hair before crowning her head with a white flower halo. Satisfied that her appearance was befitting of a May Day maiden, she rushed to the door and opened it.

Merlin stood there, back to her while he had been waiting. He turned as soon as the door opened.

“Hi,” she said, smiling.

“Wow” he said staring at her with a smile. “You look beautiful.”

Gwen blushed for the second time that morning. “Thank you.”

It was nice. There was something different about the way Merlin was today, as opposed to yesterday. It was yesterday that he had ‘rejected’ her. It had hurt despite her new realised love for Arthur. Today she looked at him with fresh eyes. Their friendship could start anew.

Tom appeared behind her at the door, “Good morning, Merlin.”

“Good morning,” he replied. He turned to Gwen, “Shall we go?”

“Okay,” Gwen said stepping out the door. “See you tonight, dad!”

“Wait!” Merlin suddenly said. “Gregory wanted me to remind you about something…”

“Oh!” Gwen realised, “The sandwiches!”

“See,” Merlin said following her back into the house. “You don’t even need me!”

Gwen chuckled, lugging a basket filled to the top with her sandwiches, made by her own hand. Merlin politely took the basket and smelt it.

“Smells yummy,” he said smiling as they made their way off. “What are they?”

“Fifteen are pigeon,” she replied. “And fifteen are cheese; though I’d say there is more bread than cheese.”

Merlin smiled, “That’ll do me. If anyone else complains I’ll swing for them.”

“I’m not the best cook in the world” Gwen said as they made their way to the doors of the city, “but Morgana never complains and dad appreciates my sandwiches.”

Merlin thought for a moment and smiled.

Gwen titled her head, “What is it?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just I can just imagine Arthur going off to war. He’ll come to say goodbye and you’ll give him a sandwich for the journey.”

“Merlin!” she snapped. “I don’t want people to know—”

Merlin stopped and looked at her, “Is there _something_ to know?”

Gwen stopped too. There was a short pause before she turned to Merlin and said: “I’m going to meet him tonight.”

The young man’s eyes widened, “Seriously?”

She nodded, “He asked me to meet him by the secret alcove tonight. If I don’t go then he’ll take it that…”

“That you don’t love him?” Merlin finished.

She nodded.

“Are you defiantly going then?”

“Yeah,” she said clearing her throat. “I mean, yes. I am going. At first I wasn’t sure I would but then…”

“Then…?”

“Then I read is letter and I realised that,” she said trying to think of the right words. “I realised that the man who wrote these letters was a man, not a prince. When I wrote that letter to him, knowing it was him, I wrote it to the prince.”

“Only natural” he agreed.

“Then my father told me a story about my mother,” she told him. “And I thought; ‘Maybe it is possible for love to exist between two people who ordinarily wouldn’t be together’ so I decided then…”

She trailed off.

“Decided what?” Merlin asked.

“That it was time I faced my feelings,” she said. “I mean I’ve been running away from them for too long. I ran away from my feelings for you—” She noticed Merlin look a little uncomfortable. “I need to stop running away from them.”

Merlin nodded awkwardly, “Yeah, that’s the thing to do.”

Gwen looked at him as they made their way up a hill towards where the other servants said they were setting up. “You don’t mind my telling you think, do you?”

“No” he replied. “What are friends for if not to talk to?”

She smiled, “Thank you.”

“Thank you for what?”

“For just being Merlin,” she replied. “I’m glad my friend is you.”

They both broke into smiles and linked arms, trekking up the hill with the basket swinging between Merlin’s fingers. Finally getting to the top they looked down at the small crowd excitedly setting up the small band, and laying down the blankets. The girls hung daisy chains around the boys’ necks, and some of the boys leant down kissed them.

There were joyful screams coming from where Merlin and Gwen had just come from. Looking behind him Merlin saw Morgana and her friends running through the grass carrying flowers. All of them were dressed in beautiful, light trailing dresses. Gwen nudged him, “They look nice don’t they?”

“Yeah” Merlin said as he watched them disappear over another hill. He then turned back to where their May Day celebration was going on. He took Gwen’s hand and nudged her forward slightly. “Do we dare?”

She smiled, “We dare!”

Hand in hand the two friends ran down the hill, the grass under them threatening to slip them up. Merlin clutched the basket to him, worried he might drop it. As they reached the bottom they kept going. The slop tripped Gwen and she fell down the hill, rolling as she went. It hurt a little bit but she laughed in spite of herself. The grass was damp under her, but they didn’t care.

Merlin reached the bottom and couldn’t slow himself down. He shoved the basket into one of the girl’s hands before slowing down by throwing himself to the ground with a thump. He laughed despite the fact he hit his head.

Gregory stood over him and shook his head, “Merlin, you’re bonkers.”

“One of my many charming qualities” he replied, looking up at him.

Gwen pulled herself to her feet, dizzy from her tumble. As she made her way over to Merlin to help him up she realised this was how they were supposed to be. They were meant to be the best of friends. He’d be the one to cheer her up when she was down, laugh with her when she was happy, and run down a hill with her to distract her from what could potentially be a _very_ frightening situation.


	13. Chapter 13

Gaius made his way down the dark and dreary passage towards the underground cave where the dragon was kept. It was hot and stuffy; he couldn’t determine whether it was the warmth of the spring, the warmth of the touch or the warmth of the dragon’s breath. Either way it was going to his head.  
  
Maybe it was just him getting old.  
  
As he reached the end he walked out into the large open space, the deep cave that lay under the castle of Camelot. He looked up at the light that beamed down from the top, just out of the dragon’s reach. He was just about to call it when he heard the mighty flap of its wings and the metallic rattle of his chain.  
  
He landed on the pillar beside Gaius, perching like a bird and settling his wings, staring at Gaius.  
  
“Two visits in six months?” the dragon asked. “That’s more than you gave me in twenty years.”  
  
“As if you didn’t know I was coming,” Gaius retorted.  
  
“As much as it may surprise you, old man, I don’t know _everything_.”  
  
“No, but you like to pretend that you do.”  
  
“Knowing everything and hearing everything are two different things.”  
  
“Not for you,” the old man said. “I’ve come about Merlin.”  
  
“Yes, I thought you might” the dragon replied. “You’d come for no reason other than for Merlin’s sake, or Uther’s.”  
  
“I wouldn’t come to you for Uther’s sake,” Gaius replied.  
  
“You are nonetheless concerned that Uther is starting to realise Merlin’s uniqueness?”  
  
“Not only him,” Gaius replied. “I fear he is starting to realise there is something different about Morgana also.”  
  
The dragon flapped his wings, “Ah, the Lady Morgana. I was wondering when she would come up.”  
  
“I want to know whether I should warn them both,” Gaius replied.  
  
“In this situation, old man,” the dragon replied. “You have the wrong end of the stick, but then so is Uther. However by the end of the year you will both be right.”  
  
Gaius rolled his eyes, “I’m not in the mood for your ridiculous riddles.”  
  
The dragon stretched his neck. “No, you never were, were you? The young warlock is the same whenever I advice him. Impatience must run in the family. No, there is nothing to fear yet. That isn’t to say there is nothing to fear at all.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“By the end of the May holiday destiny will be in place,” the dragon said. “Not just Merlin’s but Arthur’s as well; their destinies and their tragic fates.”  
  
“What do you mean ‘their fates’?” Gaius asked.  
  
The dragon snorted, “That most human of all emotions; _love_.”  
  
“Love,” Gaius repeated.  
  
“All I can tell you is that their fates are far from pleasant,” the dragon explained. “Merlin’s destiny is not yet clear and can be prevented.”  
  
“How do I do that?”  
  
“You must prevent Arthur from jousting with Gawain at the games on Saturday,” he explained. “But it is too late for Arthur; by the end of the tonight he will know the face of his greatest love.”  
  
“Who is that?”  
  
The dragon had admittedly told him more than it usually did so Gaius had no right to complain when he finally decided to fly off. He watched helplessly as it flew to the top of the cave, as high as the chain permitted him.  
  
-  
  
Morgana lay down in the grass. As the afternoon went on the grass had dried, so now it felt crunchy under her. She clutched a great chunk of it and pulled it up. Her hand eclipsed the sun as she pulled herself back up. She stood up and sprinkled Gawain with it. He looked up and brushed it away.  
  
“Morgana!” he cried. “You’re like the annoying older sister I never had.”  
  
“Not something every woman wants to hear,” she replied sitting down beside him.  
  
“Not my words.”  
  
She sighed, “I thought so. A saying like that had Arthur written all over it.”  
  
Gawain sat up and nudged her, “You know he probably just says it to annoy you.”  
  
“Of course he does,” Morgana said rolling her eyes. “Why else would he say it?”  
  
“No, what I mean is,” he went on. “You shouldn’t take it seriously. I mean, you know what Arthur’s like. He only does it to tease you.”  
  
There was a long pause as Morgana stared at him. Her eyes then glowered, “What has he been telling you? If he’d been telling you what I _think_ he’s been telling you, then don’t believe it. He only says it to inflate his ego.”  
  
“He hasn’t been telling me anything,” Gawain said. “That’s just the thing, he’s acting strangely. I know you know him better and I was just wondering if you knew what was wrong.”  
  
Morgana shrugged, “I don’t know. Too be honest I hadn’t noticed until today. He’s never been one for May Day but he seems so… dismissive of it today.”  
  
“Perhaps he’s in love,” Gawain suggested.  
  
“Maybe,” she replied before snorting. “Well, good luck to her.”  
  
She reached over to pick a daisy when she stopped dead. Arthur had been acting strangely. He was distracted, he wasn’t ‘on the ball’ like he usually was and stories were reaching her that he locked himself in his room for hours at a time for no reason. Then it occurred to her that he wasn’t the only one acting strangely…  
  
It straight away came together in her head, and she burst out laughing.  
  
Gawain looked at her as if she was going mad, “Are you alright?”  
  
She nodded, “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I just had this sudden bout of _realisation_.”  
  
“Realisation?” he repeated.  
  
“Yes, realisation” she said. “Listen, I’m going for a wander alone. If anyone asks where I am just telling them I’ll be back in a minute.”  
  
Gawain lay back down and nodded, “Fine.”  
  
Morgana hiked up the hill she and the other courters were lying against. There were several couples lying next to each other all along the hill. The girls were clutching their flowers while the men pointed at the sky, tracing the shapes of clouds. Other couples more depraved things – but Morgana wasn’t going to judge.  
  
She reached the top and looked down.  
  
At the bottom of the hill there was a band of servants playing flutes and drums as a few others danced and a handful sat on blankets clapping them on. It was nothing like the fanciful slow dancing of the court; it was fast and heated. None of them seemed to be dancing in sequence.  
  
Morgana sat down on the side of the hill and watched them, searching the crowd for Merlin and Gwen. She finally spied Gwen sitting on a blanket clapping with a few other girls while seemed to hop his way back through the crowd towards her.  
  
“Morgana” called Gawain, coming down the hill to sit beside her. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.”  
  
She smiled and looked back, “They always seem to have more fun than we do.”  
  
“Do you mean the servants?” he asked, and shrugged. “Well, I suppose they appreciate it more.”  
  
“I suppose they do.”  
  
They watched as the servants got together in a huddle including Gwen and Merlin. They stayed in the huddle for a minute or so, as if they were picking straws. In the end Merlin tied his neckerchief around his eyes and Gregory span in around a few times before the servants all dispersed around the field, some even going up the hill. Morgana was certain that was cheating; normally you danced around in a circle, not run away completely. She even wondered if they were doing it just to watch him suffer.  
  
She stood up and slowly slid down the hill, the mud and green straining her light blue dress. Gawain slowly followed, walking instead of sliding. She walked up to Merlin who blindly stumbled around, grabbing at the air. Morgana saw servants peer out from behind trees.  
  
As Merlin grew closer to her Morgana stood still so he could find her once he stumbled into her. It was strange. After what had happened the other day, that intense moment where she had felt the power running through him, she wondered if she wanted to risk feeling it again. But the more she had thought about it, the more she longed to feel it again. It was like nothing she had ever felt before.  
  
Finally he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. Morgana felt the power rush into her again. It wasn’t as strong as it had been the other day. Maybe it was because she had been expecting it. Whatever reason it was the power was still there and Merlin clearly felt it too.  
  
Without removing his mask he said her name: “Morgana?”  
  
“Good morning, Merlin” she said with a smile he couldn’t see.  
  
He removed his neckerchief from his eyes and pulled it back down around his neck. He then realised he still had a hand on her shoulder, and removed it embarrassedly. It was only once he removed the hand that Morgana realised how strong the power had been. It seemed, she noticed, the closer they were the stronger she could feel his magic. She wondered if he felt the same.  
  
Almost certainly, she thought. He’s a warlock and I’m only a seer.  
  
“Sorry” he said, finally apologising. “We were playing a game.”  
  
“I thought as much.”  
  
“I didn’t know it was you.”  
  
“I thought you might have guessed.”  
  
Merlin looked around him, seeing that the servants and Gawain were out of ear shot, and said: “I’m not the seer out of the two of us.”  
  
The servants came out of their hiding places, including Gwen. They all came up, lowering their heads, as if her presence had killed the fun. It was moments like that Morgana hated being the king’s ward. She’d have given anything to be part of their fun. She looked at Gwen and smiled, “How are you today?”  
  
“Fine, milady” she said quietly.  
  
Gawain came up and spoke, “For goodness sakes everyone. You don’t need to stop having fun just because Morgana is here. We were just saying how much you all enjoyed May Day, much more than we do.”  
  
The servants all looked at one another. Gregory finally spoke up, laughing as he did; “Excuse me, your highness, but it’s a force of habit. We’re servants even if it is May Day.”  
  
Morgana shrugged, “It’s your morning and afternoon off. I don’t have a right to order you around now.”  
  
Merlin and Gwen smiled; this was the Morgana they knew from their secret dealings with the villainess, the powerful and the magical.  
  
Gregory raised his eyebrows.  
  
“Well, in that case,” he said. He turned to Merlin, pulled off his neckerchief, and held it out to Morgana.  
  
Morgana took it and looked at it, “What?”  
  
“It’s your turn” Gwen explained with a smile. “Merlin found you and positively identified you.”  
  
“Oh, I see” she said, still looking at the blue neckerchief. “Okay then but only if we play fairly, all of you ran off and hid. How is anyone supposed to find you with a blindfold on?”  
  
Gregory laughed, “Okay. Come on everyone form a circle around the Lady Morgana.”  
  
Merlin walked her to the middle of the circle and turned to Gawain, “Fancy playing?”  
  
Gawain laughed and shrugged, “Why not?”  
  
Everyone linked hands to form a circle around Morgana. She put the neckerchief around her eyes and Merlin tied it for her. As he did she could feel the strange power of magic at the tip of his fingers as it brushed against her hair and the back of her neck. She wondered what her sensitiveness to his magic meant. She also wondered what he thought; what she felt had to feel ten times stronger, being the stronger wizard of the pair.  
  
Blinded by the neckerchief, she listened as Merlin rushed back to somewhere in the circle. Although she couldn’t hear him she saw him in her mind, getting between Gwen and another servant she didn’t know very well. She wondered if this was just her imagination or whether she was really seeing it.  
  
“Okay, let’s start!” one servant shouted.  
  
Around her she could hear them rush around in the circle like children did. She stumbled forwards, deciding what to do. In that moment of blindness she realised something – apart from Merlin and Gwen and maybe Gregory, she didn’t know the servants well enough to know who it was if she caught them.  
  
To save her embarrassment she decided that she had to find Merlin, Gwen, Gregory or, of course, Gawain. She wondered as she stumbled towards the edge of the circle how she would do it. Then, suddenly, she felt the aura from Merlin swiftly pass her by.  
  
Then she decided how she could use her senses in the most trivial way possible.  
  
She stood there and gently grabbed at each person as they went by. Finally she felt the power again. Rather than grabbing at him again, she reached for the next person and took hold of them.  
  
“Gwen?” she said.  
  
Gwen laughed and removed the neckerchief from Morgana’s eyes. “That’s amazing!” she said. “How did you know it was me?”  
  
She glanced at Merlin, and answered, “A lucky guess.”  
  
“Come on, everyone!” called one person. “It’s lunch time.”  
  
The small crowd cheered and rushed to the blankets, leaping onto them and taking a sandwich to eat. Merlin and Gwen turned to Morgana and Gawain.  
  
“I don’t suppose you two want to eat our sandwiches,” Merlin said.  
  
“You probably have better things to do,” added Gwen with a smile. “Plus my sandwiches aren’t exactly brilliant.”  
  
Morgana smiled, “I wouldn’t mind, really. It’s just… have you enough?”  
  
“Are you kidding?” Merlin replied with a chuckle. “Gwen made enough to feed an army.”


	14. Chapter 14

The guard that stood post just outside Morgana’s room very rarely was asked about his work. It was so uneventful that he never told his wife and children about either. They thought it was so glorious, him working at the palace, but it was a boring life that didn’t pay as well as it sounded it would.  
  
“Excuse me from bringing you away from your day of rest,” said the king in his regal voice. “But it has come to my attention that you saw something the other day, something that might be… important.”  
  
When he was asked to recite what he had seen the other day to the king it was the highlight of his day. This was something to tell his wife when he got home, so she could gossip to all her friends. He couldn’t tell the children through – it wasn’t proper.  
  
“Tell me what you saw,” Uther ordered.  
  
“The other day I was on my patrol,” he explained. “I heard voices so I thought I’d check to see if everything was alright. I could tell the voice was a man and a woman, but I wasn’t certain who they were…”  
  
“Get on with it,” the king snapped.  
  
“Pardon me, sire. Then I heard a shuffle, so I looked up and I saw the Lady Morgana embracing a young man.”  
  
Uther sat forward, “Go on.”  
  
“Then she grabbed his hand, pulled him into her chambers and locked the door,” the guard explained.  
  
“She locked it?”  
  
“Yes, your majesty.”  
  
“How can you be sure?”  
  
“I heard the key turn in the lock,” he explained. “I then went up to make sure everything was alright. She said everything was fine and told me to get back to my duties.”  
  
Uther sat in silence, regarding the man thoughtfully. “Did you recognise the man she was with?”  
  
The guard nodded, “Well, sire, I could hardly call him a ‘man’ yet; more of a lad. He certainly isn’t a boy, has to be about nineteen years old…”  
  
“Did you _recognise_ him?” Uther gritted out through his teeth in frustration.  
  
The guard nodded, “It was his highness Prince Arthur’s manservant.”  
  
“You’re certain?”  
  
“Yes. I saw his face clearly when he turned to look at me as well. He even waved.” The king sat thinking for a moment. The guard spoke again, “And it isn’t the first time I’ve seen him go there.”  
  
Uther looked at him, “Perhaps he was on his errands the second time. He runs errands for Gaius, I understand.”  
  
“He was there twice in one day a few months ago” he explained. “And a friend of mine said he’d seen him go there without any delivery from Gaius, sire.”  
  
Uther sighed and waved the guard away.  
  
The rest of it all sounded like gossip. They loved a good scandal and this had the aura of one. Nonetheless he sensed that there was something strange going on, right under his nose. He wanted to know what it was, and he knew who to ask. Gaius had failed to be helpful – but Arthur would surely have noticed anything different about Morgana or his half-witted servant.  
  
-  
  
Arthur walked down the hill towards where the servants were. According to the blushing and brainless Lady Celia it was the direction Morgana and Gawain had headed off in. He had been heading towards where the servants were anyway. He needed to talk to Merlin. The entire morning, unbeknownst to his father, had not been spent walking around the castle or sitting on his backside doing nothing.  
  
He’d been thinking.  
  
He wondered how he was going to sneak out the ball room unnoticed by his father or the crowds. At these May Day celebrations Arthur had always been a constant figure at the hall. His presence wouldn’t go unnoticed. Thankfully, however, he had chosen a time to meet the girl when everyone else in the hall would be drunk, borderline intoxicated. Everyone drank during the day on the first of May, so by nine they were on the floor laughing.  
  
The best of all – Uther was no exception. Although he drank quietly on the first of May he still drank as much as anyone else and by the end of the day would probably have forgotten he had a son, let alone which mask he was wearing.  
  
And that was the beauty of the plan.  
  
As soon as the servants saw him coming someone them leapt to their feet and lowered their heads. Arthur ignored them, walking straight towards Merlin. He was sitting with Gwen, Morgana and Gawain. He almost found it amusing to watch Morgana and Gawain ‘slumming it’ with the servants.  
  
Gwen noticed Arthur coming towards them. Instead of moving her eyes away like most women in her position, both as a servant and a woman in love, she just watched him as he approached. His eyes caught hers but she still didn’t break that contact. Arthur probably thought nothing of it. By the end of tonight, he might understand why her eyes never moved. Morgana was the only one who noticed this exchange, and she placed a hand on Gwen’s shoulder.  
  
Arthur looked away from Gwen, and stopped in front of Merlin.  
  
Unlike the others Merlin did not stand on ceremony; he just looked up at Arthur and smiled. “Good afternoon, Arthur… sire, sir… didn’t think you liked to socialise with servants.”  
  
“I’m not here to socialise” Arthur said, throwing down the swords he had been carrying. “I need to practise for the fair.”  
  
Arthur managed to find a flat piece of land as Merlin dragged the two swords along behind him, cutting up the grass as he did. Morgana, Gwen and Gawain followed. Arthur finally stopped and tested the ground.  
  
“Yes” he said in his teasing voice. “This should do nicely.”  
  
Merlin threw the swords down with a clang. “Don’t you normally have to wear armour when practising with swords?”  
  
Arthur pulled at face, “I wasn’t carrying all that rubbish. That’s your job. But since it’s the first of May, I won’t ask you to go back and get it.”  
  
“Oh, thank you” Merlin replied sarcastically.  
  
Arthur folded his arms and shot Merlin a princely stare that was typical of the image that was Prince Arthur. He glanced up at the audience. Morgana and Gawain watched with mocking smiles on their faces, knowing he was only picking on Merlin to sound impressive.  
  
Then he looked at Gwen’s face. She was still looking at him; but not with the eyes she had just minutes ago. Her face was unimpressed – it was looking through the prince and at the man. All of a sudden he felt slightly ashamed.  
  
Gawain walked over to the swords and picked one up, “Leave the boy alone, Arthur. You can practise with me. It’s been a while since I’ve been up a challenging opponent anyway.”  
  
“I thought your father didn’t want you playing with swords while you’re here” Arthur said.  
  
“I never do what my father says” Gawain said with an odd sense of pride.  
  
Morgana clapped, “Bravo Gawain, prince of the rebels.”  
  
Arthur shot Morgana a glare but then he saw Gwen’s unimpressed face again and stopped. It made him feel guilty again. He found himself thinking of that stay in Ealdor when he looked at her giving him that face. It made him realise what a ass he was being.  
  
“This is supposed to be my day off,” Merlin said finally piping up, “and you’re having me lug around your swords?”  
  
“No, actually,” he said clearing his throat, “I want to talk to you privately before we do this.” Merlin sighed and wandered towards Arthur. To his surprise he put his arm around him to lead him to where he wanted them to talk. “And,” he added, “I’m sorry for teasing you just now.”  
  
Merlin raised an eyebrow, “Oh, that’s okay. I’m used to it.”  
  
Arthur looked at Gawain, “And I’ll take you up on that offer.”  
  
Gawain smiled twisting the sword with his wrist.  
  
Arthur and Merlin made their way over to the other side of the field. They stopped by a tree and Merlin looked at him.  
  
“What is it, Arthur?” he asked.  
  
“I need you to do something for me” the prince replied.  
  
Merlin winced; he hated it when Arthur said that. “And what would that be?”  
  
“Tonight at the masked ball I’ll need to sneak away to meet the girl,” he explained. He turned away and paced up and down. “Generally the party will just be an all you can eat, all you can drink binge party where all the nobility get drunk. By the time I need to slip away everyone will be out of it but…”  
  
“But…”  
  
“But some people might notice I’m gone” he explained further. “So what does that mean?”  
  
Merlin shrugged, “What does it mean?”  
  
Arthur turned around and smiled, “I’m going to need a stunt double.”  
  
-  
  
Gwen watched them from afar. She had noted Arthur’s sudden change in behaviour. She wondered if he had guessed it was her. He had looked straight at her and looked so guilty about his behaviour. Maybe he hadn’t, maybe he just remembered that business with the porridge. Yet, either way, Gwen thought, he still stopped picking on Merlin.  
  
Morgana had noticed to and nudged Gwen with an elbow, “Does he know it’s you?”  
  
Gwen’s head shot around to look at her, “Sorry?”  
  
Morgana motioned her eyes towards Arthur and Merlin, “You-know-who.”  
  
“I don’t know—”  
  
Morgana was weary of Gawain, and leant over to whisper in Gwen’s ear. The sound of his name burnt through her mind as she did. “I mean Arthur. Does he know that those love letters you told me about are from you yet?”  
  
Gwen looked at her, also speaking in whisper, “How do you know?”  
  
“I wasn’t certain until today; it suddenly just occurred to me.”  
  
Gwen smiled and looked at the two boys again. They stood by a tree and Arthur spoke while Merlin listened, arms folded.  
  
She looked back at Morgana, “I don’t think it’s even crossed his mind.”  
  
“I remember what happened in Ealdor,” Morgana reminded her. “He listens to you. He listened to you when he just rubbed my opinions off. That’s quite an achievement.”  
  
“That’s only because he doesn’t know me” she replied.  
  
“Aren’t you ever going to tell him the truth?”  
  
“He asked me to meet him tonight.”  
  
Morgana looked at her, “Will you go?”  
  
Gwen felt awkward talking to Morgana about this. All through her childhood Morgana had ‘liked’ Arthur. At least that was what Gwen had been lead to believe. As a little girl she had watched the two of them grow up. For a long time she had thought they were siblings, and it wasn’t until she became Morgana’s maid, still just a little girl, she realised Morgana was an orphan. After than she had always believed Morgana was being groomed by Uther to be the next queen; a bride he didn’t have to give anything for.  
  
She swallowed and replied: “I won’t if you don’t want me to.”  
  
“What has it got to do with me?” Morgana asked.  
  
“I know how you feel about him…”  
  
Morgana rolled her eyes, “Oh, not this again! How many more times do I have to tell people that I’m not in love with Arthur. I’m not. I just don’t feel that way about him. It’d be like marrying…”  
  
Her voice trailed off. There was a long pause.  
  
“What?” Gwen asked.  
  
“…like marrying my own brother,” she finished. She looked at Gwen and smiled, brushing her hair out of her face like a mother did her daughter. “I love him, but not that way. As children we were brought up side by side. I suppose when I was younger I had a crush on him. I looked up to him and idolised him,” she laughed, “My days of doing that are over!”  
  
The pair chuckled.  
  
“But,” Morgana added. “For some reason it just doesn’t seem right. Arthur and I – I just don’t see it. Even in my dreams, I’m always somewhere else. If there is a chance that you and he can be happy in whatever happens between you… I’ll never stand in the way of that.”  
  
Gwen smiled, “I was going to go.”  
  
Morgana returned the smile, “And if he is nasty to you just send him my way and I’ll tear him apart.”


	15. Chapter 15

As the evening drew in Merlin rushed into the castle to get home while Arthur and Gawain kept fighting with their swords in the courtyard. Arthur was glad to have the practise – he never got it out of Merlin and the other knights of Camelot, while good at what they did, had not been trained as a royal prince. This was something Gawain had been trained in; and very well too.  
  
Arthur was a superior swordsman, but that didn’t mean Gawain wouldn’t put up a fight. He fought strong and quickly. One thing Arthur noted especially was that Gawain was fast on his feet. He also seemed to understand Arthur’s ‘tactics’ and managed to fight him off. In the end it was the fact that Arthur was slightly older, bigger and ergo more experienced that brought Gawain to the ground.  
  
Gawain looked up at Arthur and laughed, “Great fight, cousin.”  
  
Arthur wiped his brow and offered his hand to pull him to his feet, “If you ever want a rematch, let me know. You are an excellent fighter, Gawain.”  
  
“I’ve already had two challenges at the jousting.”  
  
“Have you, from whom?”  
  
“I’ve had one from Pelleas and one from Lamorak.”  
  
Arthur nodded, “It’s a pity you won’t be taking part in the sword competition. I don’t see how jousting is supposed to be safer.”  
  
“My father had a friend who died in a sword competition,” Gawain explained. “He uses it as an excuse to get me out of most competitions at home, let alone away.”  
  
Arthur nodded, “Tell me about it; fathers have one bad experience with something and suddenly they have to take it out on the world.”  
  
“I know Uther has harsh laws with regards to,” he lowered his voice, “the ‘m’ word.”  
  
Arthur couldn’t help but smirk. “Yes, he does.”  
  
Gawain changed the subject, “Anyway, it was nice having a swing of the sword with you. It reminded me of when we were younger.”  
  
“Except without Morgana butting in and spoiling it…”  
  
“…by beating us.”  
  
“She _didn’t_ beat us,” Arthur said calmly. After a short pause he sighed. “Alright, fine, she beat us. It was only the once and we had been doing it for two hours before she came out. She was just a fresh soldier.”  
  
Gawain laughed, “She reminds me of my sister Elaine.”  
  
“How is she, by the way?” Arthur asked. He’d always liked Elaine; she was a very maternal person. Everyone said she was just like Igraine. “I heard she’s gained the name ‘Elaine the Fair’. I bet there are plenty of kings and princes fighting over her.”  
  
“Yes, there are; father is spoilt for choice,” Gawain replied. “Why, do you fancy marrying her?”  
  
“That’d be like marrying a placid, peaceful and blonde version of Morgana. She may not be as annoying but she’s just as outspoken. Besides,” he said, “why ruin all those other kings and princes’ hopes and dreams?”  
  
Gawain looked at his cousin, thinking of the conversation he had had earlier with Morgana. He just suddenly asked, “Are you in love, Arthur?”  
  
The prince’s head swiftly turned to look at the other prince: “What makes you ask that?”  
  
“You seem different” he said. “Not the sort of different that comes with ‘growing-up’ either. It looks as if you’re… I don’t know… in love.”  
  
Arthur raised an eyebrow, “Have you ever been in love, Gawain?”  
  
He shook his head, “No, but maybe I haven’t found the right woman. I do know a man in love when I see one.”  
  
“Tonight is the masked ball” Arthur said. “You could have your pick of anyone in the court; they completely adore you.”  
  
“I must admit the ladies of the court are tempting but,” the young man replied. “I’ve had bad experiences with women as well as good ones. Mostly to do with their lovers; you wouldn’t believe how many paramours I have been challenged by, accusing me of stealing their ladies.”  
  
“Gawain, I _can_ believe it” Arthur said putting a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “I mean those noble women at the window this morning, and those servant girls at the picnic – they ready to take you home. I know a lot of men who think they are God’s gift to women but you… you are _it_.”  
  
“Stop it Arthur; you’ll give me a big head,” Gawain said rolling his eyes and chuckling. Arthur chuckled. He stood to stretch his muscles, swore from their ‘play’ fighting. Gawain regarded him before speaking again, “So?”  
  
“So…”  
  
“Stop avoiding the subject,” he said with a smirk. “Are you in love with someone?”  
  
Arthur turned back, “Maybe I am.”  
  
“Should I offer my congratulations?”  
  
“No, it’s still” Arthur said trying to find the right words. He could hardly say that he didn’t know who she was by sight. “It’s still rather private.”  
  
Gawain nodded, “Fine, but listen – I’m expecting an invitation when the wedding happens.”  
  
Arthur laughed again, “Slow down!”  
  
Gawain laughed again also. After a short pause he said, changing the subject again, “Listen, Arthur, I want you to know that you always have an ally in me.”  
  
“I should hope so—”  
  
“No, I mean if you ever, _ever_ need help at any time then come to me and I’ll do all I can” he said, his voice honest and serious. “I’m not saying this out of the treaty between our fathers or because our mothers were sisters. This help is for you and you alone.”  
  
Arthur looked at him; never had another royal prince sworn help and loyalty to him before. It was always to his father or to Camelot, never to him personally. He was grateful for it. Gawain was a reliable man. In some ways, he thought, he reminds me of Merlin.  
  
“Thank you” was all Arthur managed to reply.  
  
Gawain nodded, “Any time.”  
  
-  
  
Merlin burst through the door as rushed straight to his bedroom. Gaius looked up from his book, startled by the noise he was making, and followed Merlin into his room. He found the young man lying on his bed on his belly, thumbing through his beloved ‘book of magic tricks’.  
  
“What are you doing?” Gaius asked. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the masked ball tonight?”  
  
“I need to find a spell, a charm, or something” he replied anxiously.  
  
Gaius was concerned, “What, what’s happened? What charm are you looking for?”  
  
“Oh, nothing, don’t worry” Merlin said, turning over to look up at Gaius. He saw the old man standing in the door looked annoyed now. He knew this was another hair-brained scheme on the boil. “I swear I’m not doing this because I want to.”  
  
“Then why are you doing – whatever it is you’re doing?”  
  
“It’s a long story.”  
  
Gaius walked up to Merlin and snatched the book from under his fingers. “Tell me,” he ordered.  
  
“Hey!” Merlin cried. “There’s nothing to tell. I just… need a spell that will make me look like Arthur.”  
  
Gaius stared at him, “Why would you need to do that?”  
  
“I told you; it’s a long story.”  
  
“Merlin, I refuse to give this back to you until you tell me.”  
  
Merlin sighed and sat cross-legged on his bed. “Arthur meeting with—” he stopped, deciding not to tell him it was Gwen, “This woman who he’s been writing love letters too and I’m going to be dressed in the same costume as him because apparently everyone is going to be drunk by nine, so they won’t notice the difference but I don’t believe him.”  
  
“And so will you” Gaius cautioned. “Merlin, Arthur doesn’t know about your magic.”  
  
“No”  
  
“Then how do you think he’ll react if he walks into the hall after meeting with this girl and sees a double of himself?”  
  
“It’ll be easy see,” he said showing Gaius the page in the book, “It’s just something I wear around my neck. It makes me appear like Arthur to people but as soon as I take it off I look like me again.”  
  
“And what about you,” the old man went on. “Won’t people notice _you’re_ missing?”  
  
“No one else notices me,” Merlin said shrugging. “I’ll just keep my head low after Arthur leaves. I’m there to be seen, not heard. Look, I’m going to do it anyway so why bother with the cautionary argument?”  
  
“Because I worried what Uther will think if he happens to see two versions of his son.”  
  
“I’ll keep away from Uther.”  
  
“What are you going to do, hide under the table?”  
  
“No because then there would be no point to this charm,” he explained. “Look, Arthur’s idea is good but it’s also stupid. Sure I’ll be wearing a mask so no one will see my face but what if the mask gets pulled off or people notice the difference in my voice…”  
  
“Or notice how undersized Arthur has become within an hour?” Gaius added.  
  
Merlin scowled, “I can’t help being skinny. It’s the way I’m built. Besides I don’t need muscle, my brain makes up for my lack of brawn.”  
  
Gaius rolled his eyes, handed the book back to Merlin and walked out the door, “Unfortunately others would disagree with that statement.”  
  
-  
  
Gwen wandered into the house after parting ways with Merlin, Morgana, Gawain and Arthur. Her father wasn’t there; he had mentioned something about visiting a fellow blacksmith that day, as it was his day off, and that he’d see her later that evening.  
  
She wasted no time in getting ready for the masked ball. As she did she shook with fear. The thought of facing Arthur for the first time scared her. It had from the moment she realised it was him she was writing to.  
  
She looked down at her dress, seeing the grass strains from hers and Merlin’s run down the hill. Sighing she took off her dress and pulled out her dress for the evening. It was a fine white dress that she had made a few months ago for the celebrations. She worried that by the end of the night it would be strained some how, but there was no time to worry about that.  
  
In the dress she looked at herself in the mirror; with the flowers in her hair she could have been the Queen of the May. She twisted, and ran her fingers across the lace and the upper body of the dress, which unlike the rest, was red. It made her feel quite grand.  
  
Then there was the mask.  
  
Usually she went as a deer, and she had been going to lend Merlin her mask, but as it turned out Merlin had managed to find something. Putting it away she took out her own, new mask. It was a simple white mask.  
  
Looking at herself one last time in the mirror she decided that she looked like what she was supposed to be; a phantom.  
  
She stepped out the house and looked up at the sky through her mask. The sun was still hanging in the sky, turning the sky yellow and dark blue like a typical spring evening. A few of the other servants rushed passed her, dressed in their costumes. Gregory rushed by, dressed as stag. He waved at Gwen as he went by.  
  
“Hey,” he said, “you look smart.”  
  
“It took ages to make” Gwen replied her smile visible under the mask that covered her eyes. “My dress last year got torn, if you’ll remember.”  
  
“Yeah, I remember, Harold got drunk, stepped on it and—” he stopped and pointed towards the castle. “Are you going yet?”  
  
Gwen looked in the direction; everyone who worked at the palace was making their way there. It was in that moment Gwen realised she had to face Arthur. She had to face her destiny, her feelings and the man she had fallen so in love with; the man, not the prince.  
  
She smiled again and nodded, “Yes. I’m coming now.”  
  
-  
  
It had been Arthur who suggested that Merlin attend the masked ball in the same costume he was wearing. He had thought of the idea long before he began to exchange notes with the letter-writer.  
  
The original principle behind it was so that if Arthur were to be stuck in a boring conversation with one of the older courtiers, Arthur could slip away while Merlin would be stuck listening to the amazing rise in glass sales or moaning about how lazy his farm workers were on the land he owned. Typically the courtier would be so drunk he wouldn’t notice the difference.  
  
Today, however, the ‘stunt’ double was there for one purpose only – to let Arthur sneak away from the party without being noticed.  
  
“After all you are my servant,” Arthur told him as Merlin dressed him, “it is your duty to take a dive for me when I need it.”  
  
“But what if someone asks my opinion on something or a question only you can answer?” Merlin asked as he put on his mask. “What if I have to speak, full stop?”  
  
“You won’t” Arthur assured him with a smirk. “No one at these parties ever give me a chance. They just rattle on all night, drinking wine. Just keep having the goblet filled up and eventually he’ll pass out, giving _you_ a chance to escape.”  
  
Merlin groaned. Arthur helped him on with the costume, almost an exact double for his own. Merlin spoke again, “What if your father talks to me? Surely, even if he is drunk, he’ll notice the change in your voice.”  
  
“Just avoid him” Arthur recommended. “Besides, he never speaks to me. He always speaks to Morgana or a courtier or something. Tonight he’ll almost certainly be speaking to Gawain, while slowly getting drunk, which reminds me,” he added, handing the mask to Merlin, “you can’t drink anything until I get back.”  
  
“And what if you don’t come back?” Merlin asked.  
  
Arthur stared at him, “What does that mean?”  
  
“Well…”  
  
“I promised you the other day,” Arthur replied. “My intentions towards your friend are completely honourable. Once I know who she is then I hope to return to the celebrations with her.”  
  
Arthur motioned him towards the mirror so that he could look at both of them. The costume at least was not as bad as the “official” servants’ robes that Arthur had made him wear with the big feather hat. The entire costume was red, yellow and gold. The mask looked shiny in the mirror as it reflected the candles that lit up the room.  
  
“Fantastic” Arthur said, satisfied they looked enough alike. “My own father wouldn’t recognise me.”  
  
“Why did you have a double made of your costume?” Merlin asked.  
  
“It was originally father’s idea. He wanted to you be a target double in case someone tries anything,” Arthur explained. “I have been getting a lot of attempts on my life recently.”  
  
“Maybe that’s because you’re an idiot?” Merlin suggested.  
  
Arthur responded by pulling Merlin’s mask down over his face, hurting the back of his ears and hitting his nose as he let go. He uttered a small ‘Ow’ before speaking.  
  
“What are you, no _we_ , suppose to be?” he asked, his voice muffled under the golden mask.  
  
Arthur shrugged casually, “I don’t know, some mythological sort from Roman or Greek mythology, I think. The way we look now we could go as the constellation of Gemini if you want. You maybe scrawnier than me but otherwise we’re rather alike in these costumes.”  
  
“What d’you mean ‘scrawnier’ than you?”  
  
“Oh, Merlin, don’t ask stupid questions.”  
  
Arthur pulled down his own mask and faced Merlin as if he was looking into another mirror. Under his own mask Merlin pulled an unimpressed face.  
  
“I preferred my old costume,” Merlin announced suddenly.  
  
“It was so basic and horrible,” Arthur said. “You didn’t even change your outfit you just stuck on a mask. Where did you get it anyway?”  
  
“Gwen made it for me” he replied. “She was okay when I told her you wanted me to be your copy but I could tell her feelings were hurt.”  
  
Arthur cleared his throat, “Well, you tell your girlfriend that you did it for the good of Camelot’s prince. That old costume, anyway, what were you supposed to be?”  
  
“I was supposed to be a stag,” replied Merlin. “And Gwen’s not my girlfriend.”  
  
“No?” Arthur said, raising an eyebrow. “Well get you, tiger!”  
  
“You have no idea how wrong you are,” Merlin said under his breath.  
  
Arthur swaggered towards the door when Merlin called after him.  
  
“Listen, Arthur, good luck” he said.  
  
Arthur turned, making a half smile: “Thank you, Merlin.”  
  
He went out the door and downstairs to where the festivities were. Merlin took one last look in the mirror; it was like he was looking at someone completely different. He neither looked like Arthur or even himself. He was just a body in an outfit and a mask.  
  
“Maybe I could make a copy of myself,” Merlin thought.  
  
He reached into the pocket of his jacket, which lay on a chair to one side. He pulled out the charm – more or less a necklace which had something that belonged to Arthur, one of his rings, inside – and quickly put it around his neck. Holding it in his hand as he wore it, he went back to the mirror and spoke the words the spell.  
  
There was a short pause. He didn’t feel any different.  
  
He reached to his face to pull off the mask, daring to see what he looked like. Under the mask h saw not his daft face looking back at him, but Arthur’s. It almost came as a shock to him even though it was what he was hoping to see.  
  
Just then someone came into Arthur’s room. Merlin quickly pulled his mask down and looked towards the door. It was Morgana.  
  
Merlin stood and looked at her. As always she looked beautiful. It was as if it was written in the rules that she always be the most beautiful woman in the room. Despite their ‘understanding’ over his magic, despite the fact they felt this strange power between them, he often found himself staring at her whenever she walked into a room, as if she was an unreachable goddess or something. Morgana had once described him as a lover. Maybe he was; a lover of pretty girls, at least. He had lived in a village where most of the girls were far from anything special, so coming to Camelot had been a real eye opener for him.  
  
“Oh” she said. Morgana seemed to double take when Merlin turned around to face her. He almost told her who it was when she spoke again. “Arthur, aren’t you going to go downstairs?”  
  
That is reassuring, Merlin thought. Even thought she double took him, if he could fool Morgana then there was nothing to fear from the other members of the court.  
  
He looked at her mask and dress for the party. It was dark royal blue and silver, her mask white and gold with finely plucked feathers attacked to it like a lion’s mane. She might have been going as flower for all he could tell.  
  
Morgana seemed to be weary of the fact Merlin was staring at her, and decided to explain who she was. “I know. I look like a peacock. I’m _supposed_ to be a fairy of some sort. It was Gwen’s idea. I was reading about the Pagan goddess, erm, the one that lived in the forest with nymphs.”  
  
Before he could tell her (She was probably the only person he could tell) that it was in fact Merlin, not Arthur, she was talking to, she said: “So, what are you supposed to be?”  
  
Merlin cleared his throat and shrugged.  
  
“You don’t know?”  
  
He shook his head.  
  
“Have you taken a vow of silence?”  
  
Merlin cleared his throat again and spoke through his nose in an attempt to sound like Arthur. He wasn’t sure whether the spell affected things like the voice and he was too embarrassed now to tell her that he wasn’t Arthur.  
  
“I have a sore throat.”  
  
“You sound like you have a cold too.”  
  
He nodded.  
  
Morgana seemed to lose interest in the conversation and walked back towards the door. “Well, I’m going down now.”  
  
“Good” Merlin said.  
  
He was trying to think of what Arthur would say if it were he, which he failed miserably. Morgana rolled her eyes and walked out. He breathed a deep sigh of relief as she went, and decided to leave it a few minutes before going down himself. He quickly removed the charm; he wouldn’t need it until later.  
  
Downstairs Morgana walked into the great hall where the feast was being held. Everywhere around her there were servants, nobility and royalty all dressed up in the strangest costumes ranging from red to green from black to white, all materials imaginable sewn together to make rag and mask.  
  
Suddenly, she saw Arthur across the hall talking to Gawain and Kay. She stormed up to him, bashing him on the shoulder. He turned around swiftly and stared at her.  
  
“What was that for?” he asked.  
  
“How did you get down here before me?”  
  
Arthur looked at her as if she was stupid, “I’ve been down here for the last ten minutes.”  
  
“That’s impossible I just saw you in your room” Morgana said, confused.  
  
Arthur couldn’t help laughing; he thought her of all people would have seen through his plan. “I assure you, Morgana, I have been down here and Gawain can vouch for me.”  
  
Gawain nodded, “I’m afraid so. I met him outside the door and we came down together.”  
  
Morgana stared at both of them before storming off to find her friends or Gwen. She looked about the hall but saw no one. Looking behind her she saw Lady Celia, Lady Andrivete and a few others go up to Gawain. Arthur and Kay looked at each other, rolling their eyes.  
  
Turning to look at the door she finally saw Gwen enter. She smiled and went up to her. As soon as Gwen saw her she said, as she always did, “You look beautiful.”  
  
“Thank you, so do you” she replied. She glanced behind her to look at Arthur again and back to Gwen, “Are you still going to tell him tonight?”  
  
Gwen looked at him through her mask; it gave her courage. “Yes, I’m going to tell him.”  
  
Morgana nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Good luck.”  
  
-  
  
Gwen watched the candle slowly burn down towards the end of the feast. She stood and watched Arthur sitting next to his father at the dining table, looking distracted from the conversation his father was having with Gawain and Morgana. Her heart was pounding so hard and so high that it was hitting the inside of her throat.  
  
Sir Dinadan stumbled up to her and took a goblet of wine from the tray she was holding before stopping to give her a wink and making his way off towards his young friend Tristan, who hoped to be knighted within the next few years himself.  
  
Merlin creped up towards Gwen, mask off his face. She looked at him and laughed, “What are you suppose to be?”  
  
“I told you earlier” he replied with a smile. “I’m Arthur.”  
  
Gwen laughed, “Why did Arthur want you to dress up like him, again? Was it just for a laugh?”  
  
“No” Merlin said, smiling, “It was so he could sneak off to see you.”  
  
Gwen shot a look over at Merlin. Putting the tray down she moved behind a pillar, waving Merlin over to join her. He followed and she spoke, “He still doesn’t know it’s me, does he?”  
  
Merlin shook his head, “No, why? Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind about meeting him…”  
  
“No, I” she began. “I’m just nervous. The feast will be over soon and I’ll have to face him.”  
  
“Gwen, he’s not going to turn you to stone if you look him in the eyes” he told her. “You’ll be fine.”  
  
They stood in silence for a moment, listening to the mummer of conversation between the nobility. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Arthur. Her chest tightening as she looked over at the prince. “Merlin?” she said  
  
“Hmm”  
  
“Have you ever been in love?”  
  
Merlin looked at her, then at Arthur and then back at her, “No, why?”  
  
“I just… wish I knew someone who had” she confessed. “Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so… naked.”  
  
Merlin cleared his throat, “Well, I’m not the right person to ask. I’ve never really had a relationship with a girl. Most people think I’m weird. I’ll probably never find a girl who likes me despite knowing what I’m like.”  
  
Gwen looked at him from the corner of her eye. She had almost said that had loved him for who he was, but something told her that Merlin meant what he said in a different way. Maybe he was keeping a secret.  
  
“I wish I could help” he finally said.  
  
She took his hand and smiled, “You do help me.”  
  
“What are you two up to?”  
  
The two of them jumped, and screamed, as they turned to see a fox’s head staring back at them. They both stared in shock, double taking for a moment to realise it was a mask. Merlin rolled his eyes, “For God’s sake, Gaius, you nearly gave us a heart attack.”  
  
Gaius pulled off the mask, “Sometimes you need it.”  
  
Behind them the feast began to break up. The kitchen servants, all wearing the masks of farm animals, began to clear the tables when Uther stood to give a speech.  
  
Merlin smiled, “Oh, looks like I’m finally going to be witness to one of Uther’s great snore factors.”  
  
“Merlin!” Gaius scolded.  
  
Gwen wasn’t listening to either of them; her eyes were still set on Arthur.  
  
“This year’s May Day celebrations have been a triumph,” Uther’s voice proclaimed proudly, “just as was last year’s. We must pray that the crops are just as good as last year’s also, I trust it was to your liking this evening.”  
  
The nobility of the room gave a mummer of laughter. Merlin looked at them and shook his head, “He should hire someone to write the speeches for him.”  
  
“Merlin” Gaius snapped again. “Have you been at the wine again?”  
  
“No, I swear” he replied. “I promised Arthur I’d stay sober.”  
  
“Well if you don’t want a clout keep your mouth shut.”  
  
“…so let us begin with the entertainment and the festivities. Enjoy the rest of the evening,” Uther finished.  
  
He sat down and the courtroom burst into applause. Arthur clapped half heartedly, keeping his eyes on the candle that kept the time. It would soon be time to see her – the letter writer – to know the face behind the words. Morgana saw his eagerness to get away from the dining table and out into the open air. She told herself she would stand by her promise to Gwen. If Arthur hurt her in anyway, she would never let him forget it.  
  
Uther leant over to Arthur, “Are you alright?”  
  
Arthur looked at him, “Sorry?”  
  
“Are you alright?” he asked again. “You seem distracted.”  
  
“Do I” he said, forcing words out, his mind completely on ‘her’. “Excuse me, father. I’m fine. I just want to… get some fresh air.”  
  
Uther looked at him with an odd expression. He waved him off, “Go then and clear your head. You’ve probably had too much to drink. Return in ten minutes.”  
  
Arthur pushed his chair back to leave, murmuring as he did: “I’ve hardly touched a drop.”  
  
He swept across the great hall towards the door, pulling his mask down over his face to give him courage, his cloak sweeping along behind him. There were feelings inside him he had never felt before then. There was this heavy, tense, lump lodged in his throat and chest that felt like the beating of his heart. The fresh air had just been an excuse to get away from his father, but truth was he needed some fresh air.  
  
From across the hall Gwen watched him leave. She looked at Uther and then in the direction Arthur had gone. She had almost forgotten Merlin was standing right next to her. When he threw in his penny, she nearly leapt out of her skin.  
  
“You don’t have to go straight away, you know,” he said.  
  
Gwen nodded, “No, I know. I thought I’d leave it a minute before I go. It might look odd if I were to follow directly behind him.”  
  
She felt his hand rest on her shoulder; she unconsciously leant her cheek against it, trying to fight back tears of fear. Something told her in that moment that something bad was going to happen. Even if he did return her feelings after tonight, what future did they have? What future did she have? It hurt so much – the thought of being rejected by love itself, not just Arthur.  
  
“I’m frightened,” she told him. “I’m so frightened.”  
  
“Don’t be” he told her.  
  
At that moment he hurt inside too. He didn’t know why, he assumed it was because she was close to crying. But he loved Gwen. He wanted to look out for her. His duty was to protect Arthur, but it was his own desire to look after his friend.  
  
“Listen,” he said. “Arthur isn’t hard to approach, I promise you. I’m sure when he realises it’s you he’ll still feel the same. He told you in his letters and I think you should believe him, have faith in him.”  
  
Gwen shook her head, “That’s not it. I’m just frightened of what will happen after tonight.”  
  
Merlin looked at her. He chuckled. “That’s up to you two, Gwen.”  
  
She almost dismissed what he said as just another reassurance but quickly realised that he was right. Her father had overcome his problems and married the woman he loved, and so would she. Rubbing her eyes she decided that she had stalled long enough. She pulled her mask over her face and headed towards the door.  
  
“Gwen!” Merlin called. “Good luck.”  
  
She smiled back, “Everyone keeps saying that.”  
  
Merlin returned the smile and watched her bravely make her way to the doors and out into the corridors, towards the secret alcove.  
  
-  
  
“Gawain,” Uther said all of a sudden, turning to look at him while everyone watched the dancers. Morgana stood across the room, talking to her friends while looking around the room as if she were looking for someone. Uther had his eyes firmly on her; there was something going on with that girl. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”  
  
Gawain looked away from the dancers and smiled, “Anything uncle.”  
  
Uther smiled, “I know it has been a while since you have seen either Arthur or Morgana but I know that you are the sort of man who can be… taken into confidence.”  
  
“I certainly hope I am, uncle.”  
  
“Then tell me,” he asked. “What is the dynamic between Arthur and Morgana when I’m not around?”  
  
Gawain tilted his head, “Dynamic, uncle?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
The young prince cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head, “Well, frankly, uncle… they remind me of Elaine and I.”  
  
Uther nodded, “Do they?”  
  
Gawain returned the nod, “Yes. My sister Elaine is a bit more… placid… than Morgana but she can also speak her mind. It can irritate me at times. Morgana likes to make Arthur look foolish, similar to now my sisters want to show my brothers and I up. That isn’t to say we’re not close, or they are – I think Arthur and Morgana are very close.”  
  
“Like brother and sister?”  
  
“I think so.”  
  
“And who do you feel towards them?”  
  
“What I feel?” Gawain asked. “Arthur has always been my favourite cousins – well – he’s my only maternal cousin. Morgana is a fantastic young woman; I think she’d make a king a very good queen. She’s very assertive.”  
  
Uther nodded, glancing back at Morgana, and back at Gawain. He smiled again, “Tell me, it has been a while I’ve seen her, how is Elaine?”  
  
Gawain couldn’t help snigger, “That’s all anyone seems to be asking me today. ‘How is Elaine, how is Elaine…’ I’m beginning to wonder if I should have brought her with me.”  
  
The king nodded, picking up a cup of wine. As Arthur had predicted he was starting to put it away; it was his fourth cup. He put it down and went on: “How old would she be now?  
  
“Eighteen” Gawain told him, “And quite beautiful.”  
  
Uther nodded, “Yes I remember she was always a pretty little thing. Is she still blonde or has it darkened with age?”  
  
“Still blonde and grey eyes,” he replied. “Like me – and Gareth. The twins hair has gone darker but they still have blue eyes like mother. Agravain is the spitting image of father with red hair. The rest of us take after mother.”  
  
“I don’t know” Uther replied. “You do remind me of your father in… all the positive ways.”  
  
Gawain laughed, “Thank you, uncle.”  
  
“Your mother also, as you say” the king went on. “Your father is very lucky that she was blessed with such fertility. I must make a gift for both of them; I already have a letter I wish for you to take to them.”  
  
“I’ll be happy to do so.”  
  
“And please give my best to young Elaine,” Uther added, picking up the goblet again. “I think she too will one day make a king an excellent queen.”


	16. Chapter 16

Arthur had been gone for about ten minutes when Merlin decided it was time to take his place as ‘Arthur’ in the room. Everyone looked drunk enough. Gaius was about the only sober person in the room, and he had the face of one when he saw Merlin put the mask over his face. He walked up to Merlin and scowled.  
  
“This isn’t a good idea, Merlin” he warned. “I’ll tell you one more time – using magic in front of Uther…”  
  
“You told me that earlier,” Merlin replied, pulling out the charm. “Listen, Arthur will probably be back in a moment anyway so stop worrying.”  
  
He put the charm around his neck. Again, he didn’t feel any different but Gaius looked at him with an annoyed face. These days it seemed to be the only face he could do. Merlin briefly pulled up the mask to show his face. Gaius’s eyes scowled, unblinking. The face staring back at him was that of Arthur.  
  
Merlin reached up to touch his face. It was odd because it still felt like his face. The spell, he realised, didn’t physically change you – it just made you appear to look like the person. He forced a smile for Gaius, who still scowled.  
  
“I know I look like Arthur” Merlin said.  
  
“Physically, yes” Gaius said. “Although that daft expression you’re making could only be you.”  
  
“But does my voice sound like his?” Merlin asked, ignoring him.  
  
Gaius pursed his lips, “Yes you do. The spell works by altering people’s perception of your physical form. But _I_ can tell it’s you.”  
  
Merlin smiled with Arthur’s face, “That’s only because you know I used a spell.”  
  
“You’ll have to change that tone of voice you have too.”  
  
“What tone of voice?”  
  
“ _That_ tone of voice,” Gaius said, pointing at him. “The one you’re making right now and whenever you ask a question or are trying to sound clever.”  
  
Merlin cleared his voice and spoke deeper, through his nose, “How about now?”  
  
“No you sound like Arthur trying to do an impression of him,” Gaius informed him, “Badly.”  
  
Merlin shrugged and put the mask over his face again, “I’m a magician not an actor.”  
  
He walked out into the great hall, and Gaius called one more time after him. “Don’t get drunk!”  
  
Merlin ignored him. He picked up a goblet of wine and circulated the room, waiting for the real Arthur to return so he could go back to being Merlin. Just to carry, he thought. No drink, he told himself.  
  
He thought he would find it fun or amusing to be Arthur for a day – between ordering people around, everything female throwing themselves at him and not having to make his own bed, it looked like a fine life being the prince of Camelot. But that wasn’t what Merlin felt now.  
  
If anything he felt uncomfortable, he felt exposed. He felt, probably, exactly how the real Arthur was feeling right now meeting Gwen for the first time.  
  
“Arthur!” called someone. A shiver went up Merlin’s spine as he turned. It was Prince Gawain. If there was any time to start acting, it was now.  
  
“Prin—I-I mean,” Merlin said, almost forgetting straight away that he was ‘Arthur’ not Merlin, Gawain was talking to, “Gawain!”  
  
As soon as Gawain reached his side he titled his head and said: “Are you alright, Arthur?”  
  
“Me, why I’m fine” he replied with a smile.  
  
“Are you sure?” the young prince asked. “You sound as if you’ve been drinking.”  
  
“No, no I’m just… you know… happy,” Merlin replied, trying to think of what Arthur would say. “What I mean is that I’m in a good mood at the moment.”  
  
He wanted to take a slip of the goblet he was carrying but stopped himself. No drink, he thought.  
  
Gawain laughed, “That makes a change! You seem to have been in a depressing mood since before I got here apparently.”  
  
Merlin laughed, thinking of Arthur, “Tell me about it.”  
  
Gawain picked up a goblet of wine from a servant and a tray passing by and chuckled. “I think you have had a bit too much to drink, Arthur. I’ve never seen you as some who can laugh at themselves. You always seem to take yourself so seriously.”  
  
“Yes well” the imposter said, clearing his throat. “If you can’t laugh at yourself then what can you do? That’s what my manservant would say.”  
  
He realised that he was being very un-Arthur at this moment. The only way he could speak his mind was to mention ‘Merlin’ i.e. him.  
  
“Yes,” Gawain said. “He seems like a good fellow, that Merlin. Where is he, anyway?”  
  
“Really” asked Merlin, flattered. “I mean, yes, I suppose he is. He’s so good he’s the worst servant I’ve ever had. And as for where he is I think he went home to get… something.”  
  
The young Orkney prince chuckled and patted ‘Arthur’ on the back. “He seems devoted to duty, nonetheless. He’s quite a find.”  
  
Stop you’ll give me a big head, Merlin thought. “You’ll give him a big head.”  
  
“That reminds me,” Gawain said suddenly, remembering earlier. “You know what we were talking about earlier?”  
  
Merlin felt a drop of sweat roll down the back of his neck, “Yes.”  
  
“I think I’ll take you up on the rematch” he replied.  
  
‘Arthur’ stared at him blankly, “Rematch?”  
  
“Yes,” Gawain said. Now he was certain something was wrong with Arthur. He had to be drunk or something. “With the swords, remember?”  
  
“Oh,” Merlin said, nodding. “Yes the ‘sword’ thing – yes, that sounds like fun. Great, count me in!”  
  
“Actually,” Gawain said with a smile. “I thought we could joust it out.”  
  
“Jousting, really?” Merlin asked. Arthur wasn’t as good on a horse as he was on his feet with a sword in his hand. But maybe that was why Gawain was suggesting it. “He—I mean— _I’m_ not as good at jousting as I am at swords.”  
  
“How unlike you to admit being bad at anything” the young prince replied, tilting his head again. “Who are you and what have you done with Arthur?”  
  
Merlin’s blood almost ran cold before he realised Gawain was joking. They both laughed, and ‘Arthur’ finally said, “Maybe it’ll give… me… some practise, eh?”  
  
“Maybe it will,” Gawain replied with a smile. “As I’ve said I’ve already had two challenges. It’s always nice to have a third.”  
  
“Arthur!” That _did_ freeze Merlin’s blood. It was Uther calling. Merlin turned to face him and forced a smile. He had to think about _everything_ he said now. The king put his arm around Merlin’s shoulders and smiled, “Why don’t you say a few words?”  
  
“Oh,” Merlin said, straining his words, “Father, I don’t know if I should.”  
  
“Everyone always likes to hear from you.”  
  
“I don’t know that they will.”  
  
“Of course they will,” Uther stated. That was it as far as he was concerned. He raised his hand and called for silence. The hall quietened down and all stared at them. Merlin wished the ground would swallow him up. “Prince Arthur will say a few words of thank you to everyone here.”  
  
Merlin stood white as a sheet, a look that didn’t become the face of Prince Arthur. Everyone seemed confused at his dazed expression. It was so unlike him.  
  
It was worse for Merlin himself who stood there staring at the crowd. He felt at that moment he’d feel less embarrassed if he had been standing there with no clothes on. But seeing no way out he clutched his cup of wine and forced a smile.  
  
“Well” he began. “May Day; it’s been a good one, hasn’t it? I-I think that it’s probably the best I’ve ever seen. Then again I don’t remember any…”  
  
Everyone looked at him, some tittering with laughter, thinking it was a joke.  
  
“I mean it’s nice to see all of you enjoying yourself,” he added. “And especially nice for the girls of the court to have Prince Gawain with us tonight; I think you know what I mean.”  
  
A few of the servants and younger female members of the court chuckled at that moment. Gawain also managed to laugh, but nervously, as a few of the younger male members of the court frowned at him, silencing him quickly. He already had three challenges at the jousting; he’d be exhausted if he were challenged by another seven.  
  
“So, what else is there to say except.” said Merlin, raising his cup, “Happy May Day”  
  
The others in the court raised their goblets and toasted him, looking at each other and the oddness of ‘Arthur’s’ behaviour. Uther came up behind ‘Arthur’ with a false smile on, regretting he’d forced his son to say anything when he was clearly drunk.  
  
“Yes, indeed” he said, slipping the cup out of Merlin’s hand. “And a wonderful May Day it has been.” He turned to Merlin, “Arthur, maybe you should sit down…”  
  
At that moment Morgana ran out of the crowd and grabbed Merlin’s arm. He hadn’t seen her all night. As soon as she touched him he could see those images again of fire. They were very faint this time, thankfully.  
  
“Arthur” she said. “Can I speak to you for a minute?”  
  
Merlin went to answer, “Morgana—”  
  
As she had done the other day when she had dragged him into her room, she dragged him away from Uther and Gawain and the crowd, away to the side of the hall where a table of drinks and food still lay to be taken. Finally, behind a pillar she turned to Merlin and gave him a wide smile.  
  
“What are you doing?” she asked.  
  
He smiled in the only way he ever smiled, a very un-Arthur smile. It was as if he wanted to be found out by her. “How’d you mean?”  
  
Morgana rolled her eyes, still grinning, “Come on, Merlin! I know it’s you.”  
  
Merlin looked at her, trying to keep a straight face. He failed miserably. He began to laugh and shook his head, “Oh I give up!” He nodded, “Yes it’s me.”  
  
“Why do you look like that?”  
  
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked with his smile still on Arthur’s face. He looked around and whispered, “It’s a masked ball. I’ve come as Arthur.”  
  
Morgana folded her arms and shook her head, “Take it off, Merlin.”  
  
“I’m sorry?”  
  
“The face,” she replied. “The Arthur face, take it off. How did you do it anyway?”  
  
Merlin was just about to take the neck-charm off when he stopped and looked about him. It wasn’t private enough to be hiding behind a pillar. On a spur of madness he ducked under the long table where the goblets of wine were. Morgana covered a laugh with her mouth.  
  
He peeked out from under and waved at her to join him, “Come on. I promise my intentions are honourable.”  
  
She shook her head, “I never doubted it, Merlin.”  
  
Like two little children they crawled under the table, and out of sight of the other courtiers.  
  
-  
  
It was finally starting to turn dark outside in the small courtyard just outside the northwest wing of the castle.  
  
Arthur sat on the stairs of the castle looking up at the sky. The stars were slowly starting to come out. When he had first looked up at the sky there had only been one star in the sky. Then, as he kept looking up at it, they slowly started to appear, one by one. As they did he began to trace them with his finger, linking them up to make pictures.  
  
He sighed, leaned his head against his hand and closed his eyes. All he could do was listen to his heart beating. It was tight and painful in his chest. Every sound made him wonder whether it was her coming, even the sound of birds.  
  
After ten minutes he stood, realising that he still have twenty minutes to wait until he absolutely had to give up on the girl forever. Yet, he told himself, even if she does come after twenty minutes I’ll wait a little longer for her. There was always a chance she was being held up somewhere. In fact he was ready to wait for an hour if he had to – Merlin could handle himself in the role of prince for a night.  
  
He rubbed his eyes and sighed yet again, unaware he was being watched. Standing in the open door behind him in the light of the castle was Gwen. She was being careful to be a quiet as possible, trying to gain up the courage to face him.  
  
She had stood there for the past five minutes watching him, tormented in his mind. In some ways it had been a beautiful sight. She had physically seen him baring his soul, something she hadn’t seen other than on the paper he wrote his love letters on.  
  
It’s time Gwen, she told herself. It’s time to face the truth – it’s the only thing to do now.  
  
And it was the only thing to do. If she didn’t face him now, then she would never know what he felt or thought of her. If she faced him now, even if she was humiliated or rejected, at least she wouldn’t spend the rest of her life wondering what would have happened.  
  
Once more neither would he.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He hadn’t seen or heard her coming. He spun around and stared at her: her mask was resting on the top of her head, the flowers were still clipped in her hair; her dress suited her perfectly. No one would have guessed that she was a handmaiden.  
  
Arthur stared at her, not in surprise, but in plain amazement. He seemed to double take for a moment as it slowly came together in his head who it was staring back at him.  
  
“You” he said quietly. “You— _are_ here to see me, aren’t you? Not just hovering.”  
  
Gwen nodded; she could feel the pulse in her throat pounding, “You asked me to come here.”  
  
It wasn’t until that moment Gwen had a chance to admire Arthur’s looks. He truly was handsome, blessed with the good-looks and charm that went with being a prince. Yet there was more than that in his eyes. There was deep beauty that lay underneath, inside his soul. It was something that on sight you couldn’t see. On the surface he was a generic spoilt prince, but underneath he was the man who Merlin was rightfully proud to call his master. That man was the letter-writer.  
  
“You wrote the letters?” he asked, unsure of himself for the first in his life when facing a woman. “You are the—”  
  
“Letter-writer,” Gwen finished. “Yes, I am.”  
  
It all came to Arthur like a pile of books landing on his head. He spoke them out loud, not taking his eyes off her, “She’s my best friend, Merlin said…”  
  
Gwen nodded, “I’m surprised you didn’t guess before now.”  
  
“Actually” he said quietly, his eyes still wide in wonderment. “It crossed my mind a few times but…”  
  
Gwen cleared her throat, her heart starting to calm down but her blood icy in her veins, “I know—I’m a servant. Why should you consider me?”  
  
“No, no” he quickly said, truly wanting to reassure her that wasn’t the case. “No, it wasn’t like that. It was because… well, frankly, I was under the impression that you held me… in contempt.”  
  
Gwen looked at him, her voice serious, “Sire, I have never held you in contempt. My only objection was to your… occasional behaviour. But that never cause distain.”  
  
Arthur shook his head, “I could see it in your eyes, since you were a little girl, glaring at me whenever I teased Morgana or my friends.”  
  
“You were a child” Gwen replied. “And so was I. We are adults now.”  
  
“Then” he said quickly, worried they were slipping away from the point. They had spent the same eight weeks writing love letters to each other. Serving girl or not, he wanted to know why. “Tell me, what changed?”  
  
She tilted her head, “What do you mean, sire?”  
  
“Arthur” he said, as if correcting her. “Given the circumstances and the – informality – that has brought us here I’d rather you… called me Arthur.”  
  
Gwen looked at him with bleary eyes, “Arthur, what do you mean?”  
  
“Why send me the letters?” he asked. “How did you come to, well, what I mean is— when did you… why?”  
  
That was the question of all questions Gwen did not want to answer. She couldn’t tell him that she had thought at first the letters were from Merlin. It was foolish of her to have not realised before Merlin, the ignorant fall man, had filled her in on where the letters were going. In some ways she was just like Arthur. She had not guessed it was him, and he had not realised it was her. Only in hindsight could they see the obvious. They were both victims of this whole absurdity, and it had cost them their hearts.  
  
But Gwen didn’t care; she knew there and then that she loved him.  
  
“Does it matter ‘why’?” she finally answered. “All that matters is that I did. It doesn’t matter how I came to be here, standing before you with my heart on my sleeve, willing to risk the humiliation of rejection to bring peace of mind to _you_.”  
  
“Then why did you come here tonight,” he asked. “You couldn’t have just come for me; you showed no eagerness to reveal yourself before now.”  
  
Gwen swallowed, and said what was in her mind: “Because it is only now I realised the truth.”  
  
“Which is?” he asked, not cruelly but curiously, eagerly. “What have you realised?”  
  
She said it plainly, as if to say it with any kind of flair would ruin it or make it sound less sincere. “That I’m in love with you.”  
  
Arthur finally broke their eye contact at that moment. He felt lost for words. He was still getting his head around the fact that it was Gwen. Something inside him had told him it had to be her; the way she looked at him during those May Day meetings, that slow moment of realisation that had, for some reason, slipped away from him in the moment.  
  
It wasn’t because she was a handmaiden. He _wanted_ her to _realise_ that. It wasn’t because he was a prince. It was genuinely because up until that moment he had sworn blind that she was in love with Merlin.  
  
“I’m such an idiot” he thought out loud. “I should have realised the moment Merlin said he knew you. I should have realised when I realised that he was the other man.”  
  
“That doesn’t matter now” Gwen said. “You know now.”  
  
I know now, he thought.  
  
He looked at her again, meeting her eyes directly. She never took her eyes off him. It was like she was an angel, watching him and judging him. Arthur felt exposed before her, he was forced to face feelings he had never truly felt before.  
  
The awkwardness not only came from her station, it came from his conflicting desire to remain the cool and collective prince, and the overwhelming desire he had to embrace her, to kiss her, to _feel_ her. Now here he stood, just three inches away from her. In his blind love for the letter writer he had lacked that one thing all humans needed when they were in love—to _feel_.  
  
“Gwen” he began.  
  
“Arthur” she said. “I just—now I’m here, although I feel the way I do—I just don’t see how…”  
  
“Gwen” he said again.  
  
“I just don’t see _how_ ” she said, her voice strained. “How can you ever take me seriously when you are a prince and I am a handmaiden? I—”  
  
“Guinevere” he said, loud and clear.  
  
She looked up at him.  
  
For the first time Arthur came to appreciate the way she looked. He had always known Gwen had a beautiful soul, but never had he considered her face before now; her dark hair and her skin that shone in the moonlight that also reflected in her dark eyes. She was by no means the most beautiful woman in the world, but in that moment Arthur knew that she could be a loathly woman and he wouldn’t care. If he could choose from any face from any woman on the earth, everything from the strands of the hair to the tips of her toes, _every inch would be Guinevere_.  
  
He took one of her hands. “I told you that I would love you no matter who you were and what you looked like. And I meant it. I meant it, Gwen. I told you the only thing that makes it impossible is your belief that it isn’t possible.”  
  
Gwen fought back to keep her emotions from showing. She felt so touched, and yet sad, in that moment. She shook her head, “No. You don’t understand. I _do_ believe that you love me. I _don’t_ believe that _the prince_ will have the last say on who he loves.”  
  
There was a short pause. Arthur responded in the best way he could. He felt so awkward, so put on the spot. No woman had ever held so many cards with him before. The thing that really struck him was that she chose not to play them.  
  
“Then,” he said. “Imagine that I’m not the prince, just plain Arthur.”  
  
Gwen dared to reach up with her free hand and stroke his clean shaven face. Feeling his face at her fingertips, Gwen had never imagined Arthur was ‘touchable’ or that he had ‘textures’. All her life he had been an unattainable object that was out of reach from all people. Even the servants that serviced him every day; they could touch his possessions, prepare his meals, and dress him in clothes and armour, yet he would never really ‘feel’ the man beneath the word “sire”. None even Merlin.  
  
Not only was Arthur real at Gwen’s fingertips, but she was real too. He closed his eyes, feeling the warm hand stroke his cheek. It soothed him in a way he had never quite felt before. For the first time he too saw Gwen for what she was. She was not only the allusive letter-writer who seduced him through her words, her rejections, her denials and her uncertainty. She was also a woman, and for a moment, he could imagine that he was just a man.  
  
He reached to his cheek to clutch her hand in his; it was hot in his cold hand. Her eyes were now closed, as if she were trying to pretend it wasn’t a prince touching her hand. His eyes still closed, he leant his cheek hard against her palm, and ran his thumb over her knuckles. He brought the hand to his lips as kissed the palm gently before trailing his lips over the back of her hand, caressing every knuckle and finger carefully. It was as if she were made of fine marble; were he to be too rough he would knock her over and she would break into pieces.  
  
“Sire” Gwen finally said, opening her eyes.  
  
“Arthur” he said, frustrated in the destruction of the moment by her programmed display of protocol. “For the love of God, call me _Arthur_.”  
  
Gwen bit her lips and looked away. She couldn’t bear to look at him lest she finally break her resistance and burst into tears.  
  
“Arthur” she said, obeying his order. “This was all a mistake. I never should have continued to write to you this long. It was… madness that kept me doing so. We need to end this before it begins.”  
  
Arthur looked at her, his heart tearing inside his chest. “Why?”  
  
“Because you aren’t just Arthur” she replied, her voice cracking under the pressure. “You are the prince. There is no place for a handmaiden in the life of a royal prince, except to bring him his meals; I cook the food, but I never sit down and eat it. I make the bed, but I never lie in it.”  
  
They looked at each other.  
  
“It has to end” she finished, “before someone or something tears us apart.”  
  
Arthur shook his head.  
  
“No.” he said plainly, “I can’t just… forget. Not now. Not ever.” She took a deep breath. He stepped closer to her, just an inch away. She could feel his breathing on face, and it made her shiver with love. “You know me, Gwen. I never forget, and I never give up.”  
  
She looked up at him. Looking in his eyes then she may have let one tear go. “And you know me, Arthur. I’m a realist. I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want to get hurt.”  
  
“Then why,” he said, his breathing laboured with the soreness in his chest now, “must you hurt me now?”  
  
“It will be all the more painful” she told him, “If something happened between us and then…”  
  
She stopped.  
  
He swallowed: “Now woman has ever hurt me so much, until now. And no woman has ever hurt me, and yet in spite of everything, I didn’t care because…”  
  
Gwen turned to go for the door.  
  
If she heard any more she might falter, or give in, or do yet another thing she would regret later. This was a side of Arthur she never thought she would see, let alone expose. The thing that hurt the most was that she could feel his pain. She was hurting him and that guilt was killing something inside her. She both hated herself for hurting him and for loving him.  
  
“I can’t listen to this anymore,” she said, wiping away a few more loose tears. “I-I’m sorry. It’ll just make it worse.”  
  
Arthur’s minded fogged, his proud masculinity dropped, in the fear that once she walked back into the castle he would never have another chance to say the words his tongue stiffened in saying.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Gwen stopped. The words brought a strange mix of joy and pain to her. The joy came with the fact that she had never been told by any man she loved that he loved her in return. The pain was obvious.  
  
“I can’t help it if I do.”  
  
She turned her head to look back at him again, “And never can I.”  
  
She dared not look back after that, fleeing away down the corridors in no particular direction. Her rib cage was imprisoning her lungs and her heart, her chest felt so tight.  
  
She stumbled into a dark corner. There she slumped down onto the floor, shivering from the coldness of the floor. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, ignoring the tears she now let freely roll down her cheeks. The palms of her hands were burning, red and felt numb. She rubbed them together to bring feeling back.  
  
Gwen wanted to disappear into the wall or into the floor and go to sleep forever.  
  
-  
  
The party in the hall lazily went on. People were now slouched in the chairs, laughing and gossiping. The entertainment drooled on and on. Uther himself sat slouched in his chair next to Gawain, who seemed to be the only one still moderately sober. His eyes were heavy from the wine but it didn’t stop him enjoying an apple.  
  
Sir Kay and Sir Lionel stumbled up the table of drinks and took one each before stumbling back to their seats. As they left two hands snaked up from under the table to take two cups themselves. Each found what they were looking for and pulled it under the table to where they sat.  
  
Morgana laughed, peering out from under the red table cloth to see Uther dropping off in his chair, and Gawain politely trying to keep him awake by ‘accidently’ banging on the table or thinking up questions to ask him.  
  
The light of the hall shone through the table cloth, colouring both her and Merlin red. She turned back to him and smiled. In her hand she held the charm that had been around Merlin’s neck. “I still can’t believe this little thing made you look just like Arthur.”  
  
“It’s not as good as you think it is” he replied, rubbing his eyes. “You have to be careful not to look in mirrors. Mirrors don’t lie.”  
  
“I suppose it’s handy we’re at a masked ball then” she replied, handing it back to him. They both took a slip of their drinks, at whole time Morgana kept an eye on Merlin. Once they put the cups down she smiled, “Do is this the sort of thing you usually do? These silly little tricks so than Arthur can go off and do his dirty little deeds.”  
  
“No, no, I’ve done lots of things with my magic” he replied. “I’ve… I used magic to expose Valiant’s own use of magic to cheat in the swords competition… I used my magic to help Arthur defeat the Afanc…”  
  
“Wait a moment” Morgana said, eyes widening. “I was there for what one.”  
  
“Yes, you were,” Merlin replied smugly. “Did you think that gust of wind came out of nowhere or something?”  
  
She stared at him and laughed. “I didn’t really think about it.”  
  
“Well I made a nice little enemy out of that episode,” he replied. “She seems to be the only one who notices and appreciates my abilities, even if she did try to kill me.”  
  
Morgana tilted her head, “The poison?”  
  
Merlin nodded.  
  
“I thought that—” she paused and shook her head. “No, never mind. I suppose it did seem strange, the idea of a handmaiden going to all that trouble to frame Bayard when she only wanted to kill Arthur.”  
  
He smiled, “You really are a marvel, Morgana.”  
  
“You know” she said, quietly. “I wish I could use magic like you can.”  
  
Now he tilted his head, “Really, you do?”  
  
She nodded.  
  
“What about Uther and his… aversion to magic?”  
  
“You know me, Merlin” she said. “I’m not afraid of Uther. And you know yourself that I have… _abilities_ , of my own. I would like to put them to better use than giving me a bad dream every night.”  
  
Merlin leant forward, “I told you the other day when you dragged me into your room I’d try and find a spell to make your dreams less frightening—”  
  
“But what’s the use of having my abilities if I can’t use them?”  
  
Merlin stared at her. She had taken the words right out of his mouth. He had frequently said the same thing to Gaius. It was as if they were linked, as if they were kindred spirits.  
  
“Maybe I could teach you” he suggested.  
  
Morgana looked at him, a smile spreading over her face: “Really, you would do that?”  
  
“If you wanted” he replied. “I mean, I’m teaching myself, but I could teach you too.”  
  
“I don’t mind if it’s just lighting a candle,” she replied.  
  
“Well, actually” he replied with a careful smile. “That’s the most useful spell you could possibly know.”  
  
As the hour dragged along Arthur finally reappeared in the hall. He had been longer than he thought. His body had just entered the hall but his mind was still out there in the courtyard with Gwen. Everyone seemed a blur to him. He cast his eyes over the hall, searching for her face. She was no where in sight. She had truly abandoned him. And in that moment, a part of him died.  
  
That part could only be revived by Guinevere.  
  
Gaius walked up to Arthur at that moment. He wasn’t nearly as drunk as the others in the hall, but he had enough to stumble. “Are you Arthur or Merlin?” he asked.  
  
Arthur pulled a face. “Have you been drinking, Gaius?”  
  
“Arthur” the old man said, knowing Merlin would have revealed himself straight away. “Have you seen Merlin?”  
  
Arthur shook his head. “I only just got back here. I was getting some fresh air.”  
  
“Fresh air, hmm” Gaius said, knowing Arthur had been to meet the girl Merlin had told him about.  
  
The crowds began to depart for the night. Some were staying behind to drink some more but the women of the court began to make their way home. As servants began to clear the tables they pulled the table cloths off revealing Merlin to be sitting under the table.  
  
Arthur and Gaius caught sight of him and walked over. It was then that they noticed Morgana was underneath as well. The two dragged themselves from under and looked up, smiling. Morgana looked drunk but Merlin, as could be expected, was intoxicated.  
  
Gaius rolled his eyes, “Oh Merlin. How is it that you are such a lightweight?”  
  
The young manservant shrugged and laughed.  
  
Gawain came up behind Arthur and smiled. He then saw Morgana and Merlin, and shook his head. “Interesting—I never thought I’d see the day I’d see a drunken Morgana.”  
  
Arthur looked behind him, “What about father?”  
  
“Don’t worry about him” Gawain replied, pointing over his shoulder. “He’s out for the night. Let’s just get them home quietly.”  
  
The young man leant down and helped Morgana to her feet. She was clearly tired but unlike Merlin she appeared to be able to keep her balance. He then aided Gaius in dragged Merlin to his feet. The young manservant collapsed against Gaius, and Arthur who had been watching to scene wearily, keeping one eye on his father, put his arm around Merlin to keep him up right.  
  
Gawain, who was providing support for Morgana, chuckled at the state Merlin was in. “Oh dear, hands up if we drank too much!”  
  
Merlin raised his hand clumsily. “Me, sire. Guilty as charged; sorry, Arthur.”  
  
Arthur said nothing. He turned to Gaius, “I’ll help you take him home.” He turned to Gawain, “Get Morgana back to her room, ask some servants to help you.”  
  
Gawain nodded and turned to some of the palace servants. “Come on then. Let’s get her washed and ready for bed as quickly as possible.”  
  
“Shouldn’t someone fetch Gwen?” asked a maidservant.  
  
“Who is Gwen?” asked Gawain.  
  
Arthur heard them and spoke with a lump in his throat as he explained, “Guinevere, her handmaiden.”  
  
Gawain turned back to the maidservant, “You see if you can find her.”  
  
The maidservant rushed off while Gawain and two others followed him out of the hall, carefully walking Morgana along.  
  
Arthur watched them go before he and Gaius carried Merlin between them. The whole time the young man babbled things. “This may not be the best time to tell you this,” Merlin slurred out as Arthur propped him up. “But you have to joust with Prince Gawain at the tournament.”  
  
After finally getting Merlin back to the house, Gaius asked Arthur where his clothes were.  
  
“They’re still in my room” the young prince replied. “I go and look for them.”  
  
He went back to his chambers. Ever time he passed a young woman his heart braced, wondering whether it was Gwen or not. It never was.  
  
Getting what he came for he stumbled back towards Merlin and Gaius’s apartments carrying the young manservant’s clothes. His mind was in a daze, his eyes were clouded. It was like he had been hit over the head with something blunt and heavy. He wondered briefly how he had come to be in this confusing and painful and wonderful predicament. But it didn’t last long.  
  
All he could think about was her.  
  
All he wanted to say was her name – Guine _vere_ , Guine _vere_ …  
  
Gaius was sitting next to the bed in the living room where Merlin lay intoxicated, making small, drunken snores as he did so. He looked cozy, curled up like a little child having a nice dream. He was going to regret touching the ale tomorrow morning.  
  
The old man looked up as the prince entered quietly. “I found them.”  
  
Gaius stood up and took them from Arthur, “I’ll send them off to be washed, and get what he’s wearing now back to you as soon as he’s recovered from his hang over.”  
  
Arthur sat in a chair near Merlin’s head, managing to crack a smile, “I take it he’ll be taking a sick day tomorrow.”  
  
“Depends how much he drank” Gaius replied. “If he’s drunk more than five you won’t be seeing him until Monday.”  
  
The two of them sat watching Merlin as he slept. It was rather soothing to watch, Arthur admitted to himself. It was nice to see someone sleeping soundly. And not only him but Morgana, too, who had been knocking back the wine as if it were water. Not that he could judge. After he walked back into that hall and Gwen didn’t reappear, he gulped down a few goblets as well.  
  
His vision was starting to blur. He cleared his throat, “Gaius.”  
  
“Yes”  
  
“I don’t know who else to tell since Merlin is—” he nodded his head towards the young man curled up comfortably, “Out for the night.”  
  
Gaius couldn’t help sniggering. “I’ll listen if you’ll listen to me first.”  
  
Arthur sighed, “What is it?”  
  
“Merlin mentioned you are jousting with Gawain at the tournament,” Gaius said.  
  
A faint smile appeared on the prince’s lips. “Looks like I am now. He’s my cousins; I can’t exactly back out of it just because Merlin was pretending to be me.”  
  
“I would advise you to be careful,” the old man replied. The dragon’s words rang in his head, and had the moment Merlin mentioned the challenge. “They say Gawain is an expert on a horse.”  
  
“We’ll see” Arthur replied.  
  
Gaius decided to drop it. “And what is troubling you?”  
  
Arthur sat in silence before he spoke. “Gaius, have you—”  
  
“Hmm”  
  
“Have you ever been in love?”  
  
Gaius looked at him. It seemed everything the dragon had said was coming true. Arthur had seen the face of his true love. “Once” the old man replied, “but not for a long time. I’m too old. Can I assume that you yourself are enamoured with a young lady?”  
  
Arthur sat in silence. “I feel awkward saying this—”  
  
“Then maybe you shouldn’t.”  
  
“—but I have to get it off my chest” the prince finished.  
  
He curled himself into a foetus and took a laboured breath. He didn’t look well.  
  
“I have a terrible pain in my chest, and my legs, and my arms. It’s like I’m having a heart attack. I can’t focus my eyes, they feel so foggy. I can’t think clearly. I can only think about her. I feel so… emasculated!”  
  
Gaius couldn’t help sniggering. “There is nothing wrong in loving a woman.”  
  
“I know there isn’t. I both love and hate this feeling. It feels like…” Arthur paused. “It feels like I’ve been asleep my whole life and I only awoke an hour ago.”  
  
Gaius dabbed a cloth on Merlin’s forehead. The young manservant was dead to the world. “And who is this lucky lady, if I may ask, sire?”  
  
Arthur looked away from the sleeping Merlin and over to the window. Outside he could hear people making their way home. He wondered where she was now. He said her name, not as a reply to Gaius, but because she was all there was on his mind.  
  
“Guinevere…”  
  
The old man looked up upon hearing the name. It was at this point he began to worry.


	17. Chapter 17

Merlin had awoken with one of the worst hangovers of his life. It hurt to open his eyes; everything was too bright. He clutched his head and groaned. It was throbbing with a sharp pain, banging on the inside of temples and behind his eyes. The typical hang over. He never felt the typical overwhelming desire to douse that awful yellow ‘pick-me-up’ that Gaius normally gave him after his nights on the town.  
  
He could smell it brewing in the kettle. That was enough to sober up anyone after a night of drinking.  
  
Gaius glanced over at him. “Good morning.”  
  
“Morning,” the young man groaned in reply. The old man came up to Merlin and handed him the horrible concoction. Merlin pulled a face, “Aw, do I _have_ to?”  
  
“Drink it” Gaius ordered.  
  
Merlin took the remedy, held his nose and swallowed it. He swallowed it so quickly that he choked and the horrible taste stuck in his mouth, throat and nose. He really would have preferred to have the hangover.  
  
Looking up be noticed Gaius staring at him with his ‘unimpressed’ face. Merlin looked at him, “What is it?”  
  
“Are we going to talk about last night?”  
  
“What happened last night?”  
  
“You were sitting underneath a table with Morgana, drinking.”  
  
Merlin chuckled, “Oh, yeah, I remember now.”  
  
“How much does she know, Merlin?”  
  
“A lot,” he replied cheekily. “She’s a very clever woman.”  
  
“You know what I mean.”  
  
Merlin sighed, “Gaius, she won’t tell anyone. Believe me, she’s the only one in this castle that I trust with his secret other than you.”  
  
The old man continued to scowl, and Merlin looked away. He could understand why Gaius was angry but he didn’t seem to understand what a comfort it was for Merlin. Now she knew, and had enlisted his help in soothing her fortune-telling nightmares, he felt less of a freak.  
  
“I assume she has spoken to you about her dreams?”  
  
“Yes,” Merlin admitted. “She asked me to help her soothe them, or help her work out what they mean—”  
  
“They don’t have a meaning, Merlin” Gaius replied. “They are _dreams_.”  
  
“You of all people know that isn’t true.”  
  
Gaius stared at Merlin. “All I mean is,” the old man went on. “It was safer for Morgana when she didn’t know the truth about her abilities. It was better.”  
  
“Safer, maybe,” Merlin replied. “Better, no. Gaius, those dreams were driving her mad. She told me she has to completely knock herself out with wine in order to blunt her dreams. I can’t just sit back and see another person like me suffer because they don’t understand their powers.”  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
“In any case,” he went on, “who says it was safer when she was in the dark? Isn’t it stranger her walking around in hysterics like a mad woman, complaining of bad dreams all the time than being in a position where she understands them, and can hide her abilities from Uther like a _certain someone_?”  
  
“Merlin, it could prove very difficult for you if there are two magic users in the castle.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because…” Gaius stopped. He looked away, not answering, “Never mind. Forget I said anything. All I’m saying is this; keep an eye on her, Merlin.”  
  
Merlin was sceptical about Gaius’s worrying. Then again he always was. Gaius seemed to worry more than he needed to. The young warlock realised that he was only trying to protect him (and Morgana) from harm. Merlin knew he was living in a fool’s dream in believing that Morgana being the king’s ward would stop Uther from executing her if he had to. If he didn’t then he would appear weak, and unjust.  
  
It would be like killing a daughter, defiantly. But it would have to be done. All of a sudden Merlin felt a pang of fear rush through him. What if they were found out? Uther would kill him without a second thought—  
  
“I will, Gaius” he finally said with a faint smile. “I’ll keep both eyes on her, if you promise not to whack me.”  
  
Gaius rolled his eyes, “I notice the connotations there, Merlin.”  
  
“What connotations?”  
  
The old man smiled for the first time that morning, “You and your eye for the pretty girls.”  
  
“What else?” Merlin replied with a chuckle.  
  
The two of them laughed, but the mood was quickly killed as soon as Gaius changed the subject back to the night before. He’d covered Merlin and Morgana, now it was time for Arthur and Gwen.  
  
“How long have you known?” Gaius asked.  
  
“I know a lot of things.”  
  
“Not enough it seems,” the old man scolded. “I meant about Arthur and Gwen.”  
  
Merlin pretended, as he usually did when he didn’t want to part with a secret, that he didn’t know anything. “What about Arthur and Gwen?”  
  
“Merlin, I know” the old man said. “Arthur as good as told me last night.”  
  
The young man’s eyes widened, “When?”  
  
“While you were passed out in your drunken state,” Gaius explained. “He was unlike anything I had ever seen from him before. I have known Arthur all his life and never have I seen him so… lost. He told me that he felt as if he’d been asleep all his life and he had only just woken up. Those are rather poignant words for Arthur, I’m sure you’d agree.”  
  
“Beautiful. He should write it down.”  
  
Gaius glanced at him, “He probably already had… but then you know that, don’t you?” Merlin shrugged. “Arthur has been writing to Gwen for the last month, hasn’t he?”  
  
Merlin nodded, “Yes.”  
  
The old man shook his head. “That infernal lizard was right.”  
  
“How’d you mean?”  
  
Gaius sighed, “I fear that Arthur is in love with Gwen.”  
  
Merlin tilted his head, “Is that a bad thing?”  
  
“Gwen is a handmaiden,” Gaius replied. “Arthur is a prince. It’s not like they can fall in love, get married and live happily ever after. Uther will expect Arthur to marry a princess, or at the very least a duke’s daughter.”  
  
Merlin perked up, “Like Princess Elaine?”  
  
“How do you know about her?”  
  
“Everyone is talking about her at the moment,” the young man replied. “Arthur and Gawain were talking about her the other day. Even Uther was asking about her. Who is she?”  
  
“She is the eldest daughter to King Lot and Queen Anna, who is Igraine’s sister,” Gaius explained. He then shifted in his seat, “It’s strange but I always thought Arthur and Morgana would one day marry.”  
  
Merlin twitched a little bit. From the moment he had heard Gwen say that on his third day in Camelot the idea had felt ‘wrong’ to him. He’d never quite put his finger on it. He shook his head and answered his own mental question, “Nah, they’re like brother and sister.”  
  
Gaius shifted again, not wanting to say this to Merlin as he knew would be upset to hear it, “If everyone is talking about Elaine I suspect Uther has it in his mind to secure a betrothal between her and Arthur.”  
  
The young wizard looked up, “Really.”  
  
“And I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to convince Lot to offer one of his sons for Morgana,” Gaius went on, “Probably Gawain.”  
  
“No!” Merlin sulked. He heard himself say it, and then backtracked. “I mean—that’s terrible that… neither of them have a say in it.”  
  
Gaius noted Merlin’s exclamation, but decided to ignore it. He shrugged, “I’m sure Arthur will have a say, but it won’t make much of a difference in the end. That’s why I’ve always said you should count yourself lucky. Things you take for granted he has to give up. Arthur is a young man who does his duty, but he is also stubborn.”  
  
Merlin snorted with laughter, “I know.”  
  
“Arthur may seem to wallow in glory and admiration,” the old man went on, “but he has to sacrifice so much.”  
  
“Including Gwen,” the young warlock whispered.  
  
“The most Gwen could ever hope to be to Arthur is his mistress.”  
  
Merlin cringed, “Gwen would never agree to that… would she?”  
  
Gaius sighed again, “I have a dreadful feeling she would. That’s why she rejected him last night.”  
  
“How do you know that?”  
  
“Well” the old man replied. “Arthur wasn’t exactly walking with a spring in his step when we brought you back here. I’ve never seen him like that before. Arthur has always been adored by girls and he’s had romance… but they were always with noblewomen, and he always got over it after a week.”  
  
Merlin sighed, “Maybe it’s true love.”  
  
“For their sake I hope it isn’t,” Gaius replied. He then pointed at Merlin cautiously, “I hope you don’t make the same mistake Merlin.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Falling in love with someone out of your reach,” he said. “This could be you.”  
  
Merlin laughed at the very idea, “What noblewoman would look at me twice when they have blokes like Gawain and the knights to stare at. I have enough trouble attracting girls of my own station. I am _this_ close to becoming a celibate.”  
  
Gaius rolled his eyes, “I wouldn’t recommend it, Merlin. Your eye for girls would get you kicked out of any monastery. They wouldn’t trust you with the sisters.”  
  
Merlin laughed.  
  
-  
  
Gwen sat looking out the window of Morgana’s room. The day looked as if it would be a lazy one, as most Sundays were. People were awaking from night of drinking, slugging out of bed and, with their hangovers, getting to work on setting up the stands for the May Day games tomorrow.  
  
For a moment she wondered if she was the only sober person in the whole castle. From what she had heard from Gregory, who had finally found her wandering the corridors of the palace at two this morning, Merlin had _literally_ drunk himself under the table, with the Lady Morgana, too.  
  
Gwen looked behind her; Morgana was still fast asleep. It looked like a dreamless sleep, something that the lady rarely enjoyed. Like the dutiful handmaiden she had said by her mistress throughout the night, not once stealing a moment for sleep.  
  
The young maid was worried about her mistress’s drinking habits. At first it had seemed liked nothing as it was common practice for the nobility to drink frequently from lack of anything else to do. But now it was obvious to Gwen that Morgana was drinking for one reason and one reason only; to medicate herself from the nightmares she had.  
  
Every since she was a young girl and first brought to the palace to serve Gwen had noticed Morgana’s dreams. She would tell her about the dreams and then they would come true. When they were younger the dreams were just simple things like Arthur breaking his arm, Uther falling desperately ill with a plague that was going around eight years ago, and Gwen herself being promoted to being Morgana’s handmaiden. Then as they got older the dreams became more serious, and lately, they had been horrific.  
  
The worst of it was this—Morgana said she couldn’t tell Gwen what happened in the dream. That frightened the girl; what was Morgana _seeing_?  
  
Gwen tried not to think about it as she looked out the window again. But that was one of the only two things she had on her mind. The other was Arthur. She thought of his name over and over in her head, sometimes saying it out loud. It only reminded her of her feelings. She was full of regret over the way she had handled things last night. She had gone over the moment in her head a million times, and she had never said no.  
  
But in that moment, feeling him, touching him and realising for the first time that he wasn’t an allusion, she realised that she was nothing. She was literally reaching out for something that was above her, and she felt ashamed.  
  
There was more too.  
  
Gwen knew that if she hadn’t left when she did, she’d have stayed—longer than she should stay. And if she had stayed any longer, she knew she would have ultimately offered herself to him on a plate. She needed to keep control of her virtue as well as her emotions.  
  
When she thought about her feelings, though, she felt embarrassed. It felt as if everyone knew what she was thinking. It felt as if they could see her reliving that intimate moment the other night as she ran her hand over his face and he had traced his lips over her hand. Every time she thought about it her cheeks flushed red and she folded in on herself, eyes shut tight, entering her own world where the memory could be repeated and relieved over and over.  
  
Then came the thoughts of what she secretly wanted him to do, but never admit, and what she knew he secretly wanted to do, but had been refused the chance by her refusal of him. She hugged her arms around herself and leant her head against the sill of the window, ashamed that she was having these fantasies. She knew many girls probably had fantasies about Arthur, reducing themselves to warm puddles of butter on the floor when they did. The thing that made Gwen ashamed was that for _her_ it really _could_ have happened.  
  
And once more she wished it had.  
  
It was a horrible thing to admit to. She prided herself in being a woman who was practical, realistic and prudent, even if she could be foolish and misguided at times. To admit that she would have melted like so many other girls before her in front of Arthur was, in her mind, an insult to herself.  
  
And she was glad she had left when she did.  
  
Opening her eyes she looked out the window again and her heart stopped. Down below she saw him again. Arthur. He was walking around the courtyard doing nothing with just a goblet of wine in his hand. He looked up at all the windows of the castle. As his eyes looked to Morgana’s window, Gwen moved away to avoid being seen. She dreaded meeting his eyes again lest she would just fall back and die on the spot.  
  
She peeked to look out the window again; he was looking away, and she felt safe admiring him silently from above. She let out a sigh, and nearly said his name out loud. But she stopped herself.  
  
“Gwen” a croaking voice said from behind.  
  
Gwen spun around and saw Morgana cautiously opening her eyes, the light of the outside world too much for her pupils. The maid walked up to Morgana, forcing a smile. “Milady, are you feeling better now?”  
  
“What on earth happened last night?”  
  
“You had a little bit too much to drink.”  
  
Morgana remembered and let out a dry laugh. She was completely parched. “Oh, yes, I remember now. Merlin and I were sitting under the table. He was pretending to be Arthur and he told me he wanted to hide under the table until the real Arthur came back.”  
  
Gwen said nothing.  
  
“I think we went a bit over our limit. One thing I will says is that binge drinking does wonders for my nigtmares,” Morgana joked. She noticed Gwen’s silence and attempted to sit up. “What wrong, Gwen?”  
  
Gwen’s eyes widened, she snapped on her smile again. “Nothing, nothing at all, can I get you anything, milady?”  
  
“Put a pillow behind me,” Morgana said. Gwen did as she was told, and Morgana was finally able to sit up. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”  
  
“Nothing” Gwen said, starting to lose her smile. “I swear nothing.”  
  
Morgana scowled, “Is it Arthur?” The maid said nothing. “If Arthur has done anything to upset you, just tell me. As soon as I am physically able I will go right to him and give him what for.”  
  
“No,” Gwen said quickly. “He’s done nothing. It’s my fault.”  
  
“What do you mean ‘your fault’?” she asked. “What happened last night?”  
  
Gwen bit her lips, feeling tears behind her eyes. “It’s complicated.”  
  
“You always say that when something is wrong” Morgana stated. “Now tell me why you’re upset.”  
  
The maid took a deep breath, feeling the urge to cry burning in her head and chest. She swallowed the feeling and explained her troubles, “I told him nothing could happen between us.”  
  
Morgana stared at her, “Why? I thought you—”  
  
“But nothing can happen between us,” Gwen replied, her voice cracking from the strain of her own feelings. “He’s a prince and I’m a handmaiden. I have no land, no money, and nothing else to my name. Nothing could ever come of a relationship between us. There is no future.”  
  
Morgana shifted, twiddling her toes under her covers, trying to think through her handover. “But… haven’t you considered, you know, the ‘alternative’?”  
  
Gwen knew what she meant. “No, I couldn’t do that.”  
  
“Why not?” the lady asked, “In many ways they hold a stronger position than the wife does.”  
  
“Not when he’s is the prince” the maid replied with an absent chuckle. “Besides, I could never do that. I could never… share the man I love with anyone.”  
  
Morgana nodded, “I admire you for that.”  
  
“I just had to finish it before anything happened,” she went on. “If I didn’t then it would just hurt more when…”  
  
Her voice ceased up, the words were burning her. Morgana reached over and took Gwen’s hand. This gesture of pity caused Gwen to lose grip on her emotions and she felt the same tears from last night roll down her cheeks. She felt completely ashamed when Morgana move her hand to her shoulder and titled her head sympathetically. She pulled the broken maid towards her and embraced her as a mother would a child.  
  
“I’m sorry milady,” Gwen said, trying to gain control again. “It’s just…”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“I really am sorry,” she went on. “I just couldn’t help it. I’m alright now.”  
  
“Oh, Gwen” Morgana said soothingly, stroking Gwen’s hair. The girl was obviously tired, she hadn’t slept all night. She’d been left to sit staring at four walls with only Arthur to think about. “Gwen, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You have principles and that is the important thing.”  
  
“No, it isn’t. I keep thinking I’ve made a mistake,” Gwen replied, rubbing her eyes. “The more I think about it the more I realise that my feelings aren’t just an infatuation. They’re torturing me. He’s torturing me. I can’t stop think about him. Every time I try he comes back into my head.”  
  
“Gwen…” Morgana said supportively.  
  
Gwen looked at her mistress and sighed. “I really do love him, Morgana.”  
  
“I know,” said the lady quietly.


	18. Chapter 18

Arthur sat in his chambers alone with just a cup of wine to keep him company. All he had had all day was a drink. He had done nothing productive or princely. He hadn’t even practised for the sword and jousting tomorrow. There was no way to focus his mind on any of those things. He already resided himself to the fact that Gawain was going to beat him tomorrow at the jousting.  
  
All Arthur would have on his mind is Gwen.  
  
What made it worse was that she would be sitting right there in the front row with Morgana, watching him and judging him. He would feel the sting of humiliation from the people watching when he was ultimately dismounted from his horse. But they didn’t matter to him. All he could think about was Gwen’s reaction; what would she think?  
  
She wouldn’t care. It was Gwen. If he fell from his horse she would be concerned. That was a comfort to him.  
  
But what would it matter if she refused to let him into her heart?  
  
He sat down at his bureau, placing his goblet of wine close by, and sat brooding. He was fairly certain he was a little drunk. It was half tempting to seek her out and beg her to love him. It would be humiliating, and worst of all emasculating, but while he was drinking he had the courage to do anything.  
  
Then he realised a way he could get through to her. Picking up a quill and some paper he began to write. It was writing letters they had been able to communicate their feelings without shame:  
  
 _Gwen,_  
  
 _I once told you that the only thing that made our love impossible was your belief that it cannon be possible. Now it seems I have been proved right. You are torturing my soul, and the only thing I can soothe it with is a drink. I feel ashamed for feeling the way I do, but not because of you. I love you, and nothing can change that. I am ashamed of my thoughts because my intentions to you are completely honourable and yet, I am forced to admit, my thoughts are occasionally anything but._  
  
 _I write to you now because it has been the only way I have kept your attention long enough to say what I want to say…_  
  
He paused. What was there left to say? What could he say? It seemed he was out of words, no doubt because the drink had dulled his brain. In the end there was nothing to say but exactly that:  
  
 _But now that I am writing to you, knowing that it is you I am writing to, I realise that these letters were never enough. Now that I know it is you I know that I am meant to profess my love to you, and you alone, to your face. That moment in the courtyard when I felt your hand on my cheek, and I kissed your hand I knew in that moment that I wanted, no needed, to be with you. To be able to kiss your hand whenever I wanted; to kiss your cheek, your neck, your lips… to embrace everything about you and every part of you. My arms feel empty, as if they should be holding you even as I write now. There is nothing I wouldn’t do just to feel you once again. I would tear down the sky for you if it would prove to you how I feel._  
  
 _Arthur_  
  
He threw the quill down and glanced out the window. As if God was listening to his thoughts, there in the courtyard, walking in a daze was Gwen. She wasn’t doing anything, just minding her own business. There was no one near by and she was completely alone. She stopped by some stairs and sat down, deep in thought. The sight of her made his heart pang inside his chest. He wondered for a moment if she was thinking about him. A faint smile spread across his lips. Even after last night he couldn’t be angry at her for the rejection.  
  
He turned to the letter and quickly sealed it up with the royal seal, writing he name on it so she would know it was for her. He opened the window, which was directly above her and, brushing it against his lips for good luck, threw the letter down to her.  
  
It floated down and landed right by her. He watched as she picked it up and looked up at where it had come from. As their eyes met Arthur managed to smile again while Gwen stared at him with her bleary eyes. She looked down at the letter again, and smiled, before rushing off towards home. After she left, Arthur reached over and closed the window again.  
  
There is still a chance, he told himself. There is still a chance for us.  
  
-  
  
The castle seemed to have whined down after last night. Very few of the young nobility had bothered to wake up and Gawain was the only one who had risen without a hangover. Even Uther felt rather ashamed in front of his temperance nephew. On the other hand he knew this good behaviour would go as soon as he went home. He was certain of it. Even Gawain himself admitted he always behaved well when a guest in someone else’s country.  
  
Uther watched as Gawain practised for the jousting tomorrow, and wondered where Arthur was. The more he watched Gawain the more he believed Arthur would have to practise in order to combat him. The young prince was clearly at one with his horse, and it was a reliable horse; the way he manoeuvred it was remarkable.  
  
“You certainly are an excellent horseman, Gawain” Uther said when the young prince had completed his practice.  
  
“Yes,” Gawain replied, beaming. “I am admittedly better on a horse than I am on foot.”  
  
“I see,” Uther replied, smiling. “Arthur is the opposite. He’s had bad experiences with horses; in fact his own horse has never been tame. He has had it since he was ten and it is always giving him trouble.”  
  
“My horse is very reliable,” Gawain replied. “I’ve always managed to keep control of horses that are untamed. If I hadn’t been born as prince I would have horse breeder, no question. They are remarkable creatures.”  
  
Uther chuckled, “When I was younger I was always fond of horses.”  
  
“You say that Arthur finds his horse difficult to control?” Gawain asked, changing the subject back to the joust tomorrow.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Well, if he wants” Gawain said, dismounting his horse and giving it a pat, “we could switch for the day. My horse, as I said, is much tamer and it only just had his shoes redone so he’d have no trouble with it, if Arthur agrees, of course.”  
  
Uther was unsure of this. He had got used to the idea that everyone had a grudge against him and Arthur, and even their own family was no exception to this. But Uther straight away realised this was just paranoia. Gawain wasn’t only noble but he genuinely seemed to care about Arthur. There was no question of his loyalty to him, something which would come in handy in the future when both Uther and Lot were dead.  
  
“That is very thoughtful of you” Uther agreed. “I’m sure Arthur will be honoured. It might even the score between you both too.”  
  
Gawain laughed, “I’m sure Arthur will be fine.”  
  
-  
  
Gwen had gone home to read the letter. She couldn’t resist, he had caught her with her guard down. She should have ignored it, thrown it away, or burnt it. She should have gone home and burnt all of the letters. There were enough there to keep her fire going all night.  
  
But the idea of burning them never crossed her mind.  
  
She reached under her bed and pulled out the box she kept the letters in. Sitting on her bed she read it over and over again. All the time she tried to tell herself to be strong but she just couldn’t think straight. All she could think about was the night before, feeling his lips run over her palms, her knuckles, her hand…  
  
She fell back on her bed a sighed, her cheeks flushed from the thought of him. She rubbed her cheeks against her pillow; her eyes shut tight, as if she was trying to rub her thoughts clean from her mind.  
  
She sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, as if she could brush the thoughts out. But they were still there.  
  
“Arthur, if the smug side of you knew what you were doing to me,” Gwen said to herself, unable to contain a smile, “he’d be thrilled.”  
  
She picked up the box to put the letter away. The funny thing was that Arthur was right there when she got this trinket box. It had been given to her by Cador, the younger brother of the Duke of Cornwall; Gorlois, Morgana’s father. It was as if destiny was tying them together.  
  
Cador had almost been a friend to her father. He always boasted about it when he had had too much to drink. Her father had once made Cador a fantastic sword that Cador claimed had saved his life on many occasions. It was a tale Tom loved to regale his other clients with and, given most of them came only to have their horses’ shoes refitted, they were very impressed.  
  
It had been the year her mother had died. Cador was walking through town and Uther had allowed Arthur to go with him. As they walked passed people how greeted them, bowing to the young prince, only seven years old. Finally they reached Tom’s workshop. In those days Gwen would sweep ashes and try to teach herself to read as she did. Before her mother died the two of them would learn together. Now, she was learning alone.  
  
Cador had greeted her father, offering condolences, which Tom accepted gratefully. Then he spotted Gwen. “Hey, Gwen, I have something for you. I saw it in the market and thought you might like it. You could put little bits in it and keep them safe.”  
  
He handed her the box. It was worn now but back then it was a beautiful green box made of oak. It had a lock as well but Gwen had long since lost the key. When she had first seen it a small smile appeared over her lips. “Thank you, sire.”  
  
“That’s beautiful” Tom had said. “Cador you shouldn’t have—”  
  
“Look inside!” Arthur had said.  
  
Gwen looked at Cador, who nodded and smiled. She obeyed, turning the lock and looking inside. It was a small silver statue of a fairy. She picked it out and admired it. It shone in the cool spring sun. She still remembered how it shone. Her smile immediately widened.  
  
Arthur had smiled, pleased with himself, and looked up at Cador who also smiled. “That is the first I’ve seen you smile in weeks.”  
  
As she ran her fingers over the little statue of the fairy, now tarnished from age, she thought of that day. It was strange but Arthur had always been so close to her, and yet so far away. She could have reached out and touched him at any moment but never could. Yet now everything had changed.  
  
Oh God, she thought hugging both the statue and the letters to her. I love him. I love him and it’s driving me mad.  
  
-  
  
Gaius walked down the familiar steps towards the dragon’s cellar. As he reached the gates that led down to the cave he saw the gates were locked. Thankfully he still had the old key from the ‘old days’ when the dragon was first trapped there. He wondered why, after all these years, the gates had been locked. Maybe Uther found out people were paying the dragon visits.  
  
Finally reaching the mouth of the cave he looked around for the dragon. “Hello?”  
  
The loud flap of wings and the angry groan of the large lizard filled the air. He landed on his perch and stared at Gaius with his demonic yellow eyes.  
  
“First Merlin betrays me,” the lizard groaned, “And now you. Because you let what happened happen there is no stopping it.”  
  
“Do you mean Arthur and Gwen?” the old man asked.  
  
“Arthur was _destined_ to love Guinevere,” the dragon replied. “It was written in the stars, in prophecies, and in the old religion long before they were born Arthur would love Guinevere. She is his first, his last and his greatest love. It is not the love between the prince and the handmaiden that concerns me. It is Merlin.”  
  
Gaius scowled, “Merlin?”  
  
“You failed to prevent the joust between Arthur and Gawain tomorrow,” the dragon sneer. “Now his destiny is sealed.”  
  
“ _What_ destiny?” Gaius asked.  
  
He hated the dragon’s inability to be exact. He couldn’t help noting Merlin’s dismissal of the dragon recently; he had always known that Merlin visited the dragon, the lizard as they fondly called it, but now Merlin made a point of sleeping with cotton wool in his ears.  
  
“Merlin’s fate,” the dragon replied. “That is the destiny.”  
  
Gaius swallowed, “By fate, do you mean his death?”  
  
“You needn’t worry about it now,” the dragon replied causally. “It will occur many years after your own death.”  
  
“But is that what you mean?”  
  
The dragon swayed his head. “Not exactly; the fate Merlin will ultimately meet is a fate worse than death.”  
  
“Is there a fate worse than death?”  
  
“It depends on your interpretation of his fate,” he explained. “To some it is a gift but to others it is a curse. To Merlin it will be a curse, one he will not be able to escape from. He will meet this fate traitorously.”  
  
Gaius nearly asked who would set this fate on him or how he would come but it but he stopped himself. He knew the dragon would never tell him. Instead he backtracked to Arthur and Gawain, “What has the joust tomorrow to do with Merlin’s fate?”  
  
“When you see it,” the dragon replied, “you will know. Maybe one day the entire story will come together in your head but it will be too late for Merlin.”  
  
Gaius decided this was enough for today. The dragon said this fate would come to be many years after his own death. Therefore he had to accept that maybe Merlin too would be old and nearly the end of his time. There was no use scaring Merlin now.  
  
“Thank you,” Gaius said sarcastically. “I can see you are as cheery and caring as ever. Good day to you.”  
  
On that note the dragon spread his wings to fly upwards towards the top of the cave before the chain stopped him and he flew to a balcony where he usually slept. He told himself, this strange creature, he didn’t care that Merlin would meet this fate. He had betrayed him with the sword, after all. But the destiny was worth waiting for because either way he would ultimately win his freedom.


	19. Chapter 19

Morgana lay in bed. It was clear from her face to any onlooker she was once again having a nightmare. She had her routine sleeping draft before she went to bed and mixed it with a cup of wine. But tonight it was having little effect. It was as if the dream was screaming in her head, trying to get through the barriers she tried to put up.  
  
In her head she saw the images of Gwen again. There she was, wandering the corridors of the castle, looking weary as people passed by her. Then the dream jumped to the image of Arthur walking down the same corridor but in the other direction. There was nothing frightening about that part.  
  
But then it changed again, started to pick up speed, started to show her images she didn’t understand:  
  
She saw Gwen looking out the window of her house; she saw Merlin – for the first time in this particular dream – throw a purse of money to the floor and it land at Arthur’s feet. Then she saw Uther, his eyes clouded over with fury and anger, and inside those eyes she saw fire. She saw Gwen crying, the sound of Arthur as he frantically rides away from the castle.  
  
Morgana tried to force open her eyes, but the nightmare wasn’t over yet.  
  
Then came the distant sound of horses riding, closer and closer. The face of Uther looking down at a flame; she could feel the heat of the flames against the nippy air that told her it was winter. The fire crackled loud in her ears, she could smell the thick smoke. The horses were getting closer and closer. The fire was getting higher and louder. She could hear a scream, uncertain whose it was. Maybe it was hers.  
  
She could feel her laboured breathing as she began to wake up, but the images continued playing. She saw horrific images of burning flesh; people watching in horror, and Uther’s eyes a blaze with an emotion Morgana couldn’t read. Then she saw the image of Gawain, lying on his back, eyes closed as if in sleep. She could smell the horrible sweet stench of blood. The horses were riding closer, and closer…  
  
The dream suddenly went silent as a pair of eyes opened, _the yellow eyes_.  
  
Her eyes opened and she gulped the air. She could feel sweat trickling down her face and forehead. The images still plagued her mind. They were tormenting her even while she was awake. The image of the fire, the burning flesh and charred bones… she thought for a moment she might vomit from disgust.  
  
Then she thought of the eyes again. That calmed her down. It always calmed her down. Ever since she was a little girl she would sometimes have dreams that completely terrified her. They were dreams that, unlike a lot of her dreams, had never come to pass. They were, as far as Morgana knew, were just nightmares.  
  
As a little girl she would tell her father about them and he would warn her never to tell anyone about her dreams. Thinking back she realised, from the way her father behaved when she mentioned her dreams and little things Gaius said, her mother had suffered from those dreams as well. And her mother had seen the eyes too.  
  
Before she had died her mother had told her that when she was older she would face hard times, but she need not fear as a creature she simply referred to as an ‘angel’ would look out for her. Not just her but her friends as well. When Morgana saw those eyes she wondered if it had been more than the comforting words of a dying mother to her grief stricken daughter. What if it was the angel?  
  
Never mind the angel, she thought. First thing tomorrow I’m going to find Merlin and ask him what should be done.  
  
Morgana took a fresh cup of wine and settled her head on her pillows again, thinking of her parents, anything to take her mind off the dream. If she calmed herself down and drank enough she might be able to get some sleep.  
  
-  
  
It was half past seven in the morning when the bright light that shone into room as the curtains were loudly pushed to one side awaked Arthur. He tried to convince his body to roll over and throw a hard pillow at the person who had violated his dreams. His body told him it was early, too early for him. Then again, it was too early for Merlin too.  
  
He finally turned over and squinted his eyes to make out whom it was. It was Gawain, standing there with his hands on his hips. He didn’t seem as cheery as he usually was. He actually looked annoyed. Arthur remembered what ‘annoyed Gawain’ meant: duck and cover.  
  
“Gawain” he croaked. “Why have you invaded my room in the early morning? Have I done something wrong?”  
  
“You abandoned me yesterday,” the young man replied.  
  
His blond hair reflected the sun’s shine, making it look as if he had a halo around his head; it nearly made Arthur laugh.  
  
“You said that you would be at the practises yesterday but you abandoned me, leaving me the whole afternoon with your father, and the evening. It was gone ten before I finally escaped. I get the feeling he doesn’t quite trust me, you know.”  
  
Arthur sat up, “He doesn’t trust anyone.”  
  
“I tell you it’s hard to compliment him or you in front of him,” Gawain replied, walking up to Arthur’s bed and sitting on the edge. “By the end of the evening I’d run out of all the tactics my father had walked me through before I left home.”  
  
“Tactics” Arthur asked, still half asleep.  
  
“How to get on the right side of your host” Gawain replied, managing to smile. “Anyway, I decided to get you up early so you could squeeze in some early morning practise.”  
  
Arthur smirked and rubbed his eyes, “Very kind of you, Gawain. But I’d rather have another half an hour in bed.”  
  
Gawain hit him with a pillow, “Come on! It’ll wake you up. It’s your punishment for abandoning me yesterday.”  
  
“I hate morning people,” Arthur muttered. “And I didn’t abandon you. I just didn’t feel like practising. I don’t now, either.”  
  
Gawain rolled his eyes, “Are you telling me that you think you don’t need it?”  
  
“No, I—”  
  
“Look, Arthur, just tell me what’s wrong with you,” the young prince ordered. “Is it that girl of yours? You have to pull yourself together. The way you are at the moment I don’t see you making a dent in any of your challengers today.”  
  
“Not even you?”  
  
“Ouch, that’s an insult,” Gawain replied with a smile. “You maybe be better than me with your sword but not on a horse. It’s the one thing I could always outdo you at.”  
  
“Is that why you challenged me?”  
  
“Of course” the young man replied with a put on pride that was obviously a joke. The pair of them laughed. “No, not exactly, I just wanted to see if you’d improved. Knowing how to handle your lance is a useful tactic during battle. You can’t go on avoiding it forever.”  
  
Arthur groaned, dragged himself out of his bed and stretched. “Alright, a quick run through. I _could_ do with the practise.”  
  
Gawain swing his legs to the other side of the bed like children did when waking their parents, patted Arthur’s shoulder, and grinned. “Good man.”  
  
The chamber door opened and Merlin poked his head through. He had clearly been instructed to make sure the prince was up bright and early for the games. The ‘show’ as it were began at nine that morning when all the common folk would be putting on a song and dance before the swords competition and finally ending with the joust.  
  
Arthur had only received one challenge to the sword fight, and one for the joust – that was from Gawain – and had hoped to get half an hour more sleep. No such luck.  
  
“Get ready and I’ll see you down in the courtyard in a moment,” Gawain said. He gave Merlin a pat on the shoulder before leaving, “Good morning, Merlin.”  
  
“Good morning, sire” Merlin said with a smile. As soon as he was gone he turned to Arthur and smiled, “Good morning.”  
  
“Oh, God!” Arthur groaned. “I _hate_ people who are cheerful first thing in the morning. Hate them. First Gawain, and now you.”  
  
“Sorry, sire” Merlin said sarcastically. “I’ll be sure to be miserable in the mornings from now on.”  
  
Arthur walked to the basin and washed the sleep from his eyes before he started with the daily attack on Merlin.  
  
“Feeling better after Saturday night’s drinking?” he asked as Merlin came stumbling up to him with his armour and sword over his shoulders.  
  
“Yes, sire” Merlin replied. “Thank you.”  
  
“At least you’re not too drunk to get me into the armour,” the prince went on. “You have a hard enough job getting me into it when you are sober.”  
  
“Very funny, sire” Merlin said, rolling his eyes. “Hilarious, in fact. Do go on.”  
  
“Thank you, I will” he went on: “I _dread_ to think what you would do if you were drunk while getting me ready for a sword fight or joust.”  
  
“Probably ‘accidentally’ stab you with a lance or sword” the young servant retorted, but with a grin.  
  
Arthur smirked.  
  
It was funny but he never realised until recently how much he needed Merlin. It was never a manly thing to admit that you needed a servant but Arthur was willing to admit that he did. Maybe not to Merlin’s face, but in his head he told himself he needed him. The reason was that, had he not been having this banter with Merlin, he’d be thinking of Gwen – then he’d want another drink – and then he wouldn’t be focused for the sword fight or the joust. That was the recipe for disaster.  
  
Handing Arthur his sword Merlin stepped back to admirer his work. “A work of art,” he said with a smile.  
  
“You don’t have to patronise me.”  
  
“Don’t knock it. All those lessons Gwen gave me about armour have paid off,” Merlin commented with a smile. Then he realised he had mentioned Gwen. He looked up at his master’s face to see it had gone from a grin to an absent-minded smile. “Sorry,” he added.  
  
Arthur looked at him and scowled, “Sorry for what?”  
  
Merlin looked awkward, “Sorry for—”  
  
“Stop looking at me like that, Merlin” Arthur snapped suddenly, seeing Merlin’s sympathetic face. “Stop looking at me as if I’m… _to be pitied_. I can’t stand it when you look at me with those pathetic doe-eyes.”  
  
Merlin looked away, “Excuse me…”  
  
The mention of Gwen made Arthur remember his rejection. It frustrated him. It agonised him. It was tearing a hole in his heart. He couldn’t help thinking in that moment of all the things he wouldn’t be able to do. He’d never even _kissed_ her. At this rate he _never_ _would_ have a chance to kiss her; never hold her, never feel her, never make love to her and never tell her he loved her.  
  
All of these things he would miss.  
  
It was then Arthur realised he had just snapped for no good reason. He sighed and looked at Merlin. It was unfair to take it out on him, especially since he had gone to lengths to help him by giving the letters to Gwen.  
  
“I’m sorry” Arthur said awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, it was unfair.”  
  
Merlin nodded.  
  
“Gwen taught you how to put armour on?” Arthur asked.  
  
“Yes,” he replied with a smile. “Taught me everything I know about armour.”  
  
The prince smiled, “I suppose it’s handy being friends with the blacksmith’s daughter.”  
  
“It is.”  
  
“I imagine she could get me into my armour sober or drunk and not forget anything.”  
  
“Then maybe you should ask her to dress you in the mornings,” Merlin retorted. He again realised the slip of his tongue. “You know, since you don’t like what I’m doing.”  
  
Arthur sighed. A rather dirty thought had crossed his mind when Merlin said ‘maybe you should ask her to dress you’ and he had almost voiced it to the gullible manservant too.  
  
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Your services suit me fine, thank you. Run down stairs and saddle mine and Gawain’s horses.”  
  
“Yes, sire.”  
  
“Should the day come when I require Gwen to dress me in my armour,” Arthur added. “I’m sure Morgana would be thrilled to have you brush her hair, draw her baths and make her your famous rat stew.”  
  
“Made with the finest rat, bath water and dog’s milk, I might add” Merlin said. Arthur laughed and Merlin smirked. “Do you think I’m joking?”  
  
Arthur stared at him.  
  
“Which reminds me,” the young servant added. “One of the dogs recently had puppies.”  
  
-  
  
Tom whistled as went around the house. Outside the window he could see people making their way out of their homes and towards where the Monday bank holiday tournament was to be held. The May Day celebrations had been for the nobles and the servants of the palace but this was the _real_ holiday for the people of Camelot where they could let their hair down and enjoy the day without work hanging over them.  
  
He tapped Gwen’s shoulder. She was sitting on her bed holding the little silver statute of a fairy, silent. She turned and faced him. He smiled and she returned the smile absent-mindedly.  
  
“Are you alright, Gwen?” he asked.  
  
She nodded, “I’m fine.”  
  
“It’s just for a while now you seem to be… drifting,” he said, his voice slightly concerned. “Especially for the last few days. Is there something you want to tell me?”  
  
Gwen sighed and shook her head, “No, thanks, dad. This is something I need to figure out for myself.”  
  
“Is it?” he asked, sighing also. “Oh, Gwen, when I hear you say that it makes me realise that you’re growing up. Soon you won’t need me any more.”  
  
“Don’t be silly!”  
  
“Next year you’ll be twenty-one,” Tom went on, “and you’ll be thinking about getting married and having children of your own. Then when that daft lad comes of age, you’ll marry him, move out and… you’ll be a grown up woman.”  
  
“That will never happen,” Gwen said. “I mean, obviously I’ll grow up but I’m never just going to move out and leave you…”  
  
“Rubbish, you should!” he declared. “I want you to grow up and get everything you want out of life. And let no one tell you that you can’t do it.”  
  
Gwen tilted her head, “Do you really believe that?”  
  
“You know I do!” he said with a grin. He looked at the silver fairy. “Do you remember the day you were given that silver angel?”  
  
Gwen looked at it in the palm of her hands, “Of course I do. The Duke of Cornwall gave it to me. Well, before he was the Duke, of course. Before Morgana’s father died—”  
  
“You keep that with you always,” Tom told her. “It’s always good to have an angel watching over you.”  
  
“It’s a fairy, dad.”  
  
“They’re good too,” he told her. “You should keep that silver fairy with you always. And when you’re a mother with a daughter of your own, you should give it to her. That silver fairy is one of our most prized possessions. It was given to us by a duke, after all.”  
  
“It means too much to me for me to ever consider doing otherwise” Gwen assured him. “And who says I’ll have a daughter. I might only have sons.”  
  
“Then give it to them,” Tom told her. “Only don’t let the blighters sell it. I know what men can be like. They take after their fathers. Tell me, what sort of things will that daft boyfriend of yours bring to our family?”  
  
Gwen rolled her eyes, “Do you mean Merlin?”  
  
“Yes, what gifts will he bring to our blood, certainly not charisma. A good sense of humour would be nice.”  
  
She didn’t want to hear more of this. Her father was still convinced that Gwen was pining over Merlin. When he mentioned Merlin it reminded her of Arthur, how she came to be in his life and how she came to fall in love with him.  
  
It was one of the many reasons why Gwen couldn’t find it in her to tell her father the truth. She knew he would only worry. It was all very well for him to tell her to get the most out of life – but he meant as a respectable married matron. Any hope of being a well thought-of little wife would be ruined if he knew that she had a prince after her.  
  
“I’m going to work, dad,” she said giving him a hug. “I’ll see you later at the tournament.”  
  
He smiled, “Bye.”  
  
As Gwen walked to work she thought of all the things she would have to give up if she were to ‘surrender’ herself to Arthur.  
  
For one thing she would never be considered a virtuous wife and mother. Once a woman becomes a mistress the whole world look at her with different eyes. Even a woman as respected and sweet as Gwen was. There was a chance she would never marry, as no man of her station would have her.  
  
Another thing was that, even if she did manage to marry, the children she had would grow up with people tilting their heads and whispering about whether or not they were her husband’s. Even if she did have a husband it would only be because he felt sorry for her or wanted to make profit out of marriage with her, and that would only be if Arthur hadn’t got bored with her by then.  
  
Deep down Gwen wondered if her father wanted her to one day settle down and marry Merlin. Whether or not he had picked up on her initial crush on him, he pinpointed him as a good lad who would grow into a good man. She even wondered if, in the end, she would end up right where she started only this time neither of them wanting to be there.  
  
Gwen told herself that wouldn’t happen. It wouldn’t be fair to Merlin or her for them to live a lie.  
  
Then she thought of the letter, of the behaviour of Arthur, how he had thrown that letter down to her like something of a romantic poem told by travelling minstrels. Everything in her life was becoming like story. Yet underneath it all there was she and Arthur, two real people experiencing and feeling real emotions.  
  
The only reason she was careful was because she was too modest to admit the truth, and that was that despite their positions in society she loved Arthur, and Arthur loved her. She knew he loved her, she could tell.  
  
She was just too shy to admit it.  
  
-  
  
After Merlin had saddled the horses he led them to the two princes who were waiting for him. He noticed that Arthur had mounted Gawain’s horse and vice versa. He felt a bit sorry for Gawain because, as Merlin had complained to Arthur before, the horses (Especially that horse) were irritable and had bit him several times. The only horse in the stables that hadn’t bit him yet was Gawain’s horse.  
  
Still, he thought nothing of it and wandered towards home.  
  
As he did he wondered about Arthur and Gwen again, thinking whether her refusal of him on May Day would be the end. The prince had not asked him to deliver any more letters. In a way Merlin was very disappointed. He had thought he had helped two friends find each other. Now it appeared all that agony, all that wondering and all that waiting had come to nothing.  
  
It wasn’t Arthur or Gwen who were to blame either; it was society. If people were free to love and marry the one they wanted then maybe, _maybe_ …  
  
Merlin passed the stairs that led to Morgana’s room. The sight of it reminded him that he still needed to find that spell used to help people with restless sleep. His chain of thought was broken, however, when suddenly Morgana rushed out in a fluster and panic. As soon as she saw Merlin, she screamed for him.  
  
“Merlin!”  
  
He span around in horror, thinking something dreadful must have happened. When he realised that Morgana was clearly still half-sleep, he put his finger to his lips, “Quiet!”  
  
“Merlin,” she began. “I had another—”  
  
“ _Quiet_!” he repeated harshly. He rushed up the stairs to meet her with a scowl creasing his forehead. She reached out to place her hands on his shoulders and he did the same, firmly, “You have to be quiet! Sometimes I think you _want_ to get us both killed.”  
  
She began to speak quickly, confused and disorganised. Merlin realised quickly that if a guard were to see it could mean bad news for both of them, whatever way the guard would read the scene. He put his arm around her and bundled her back into her room. He closed the door behind them and tried to calm her down. He wondered where Gwen was. She would know what to do.  
  
He shook her by the shoulders, desperate for her to lower her voice, “Please, Morgana, control yourself. If someone hears—”  
  
“…I could smell the blood…” she went on. “Three times in one night, it gets worse and worse every time, God help me…”  
  
Unable to think of anything else to do, he moved his hands to her face and cupped it gently but firmly, and looked at her. “Morgana, calm down. That was a dream and this is reality. It hasn’t happened… yet. Calm down.”  
  
She began to sob and buried her face in his shoulder. The images she had seen were burnt in her head literally by the fire she kept seeing. It made her feel terror and disgust. Both physically and mentally sick.  
  
Merlin felt a bit awkward with Morgana’s head buried in his shirt. The magic still seemed to surge between them, and the heat of her breath and the dampness of her tears were soaking through his shirt. It that moment he thought he could see what Morgana had seen; the fire, the blood, the flesh. It made him feel sick.  
  
He placed his arm around her and tried to comfort her. At least now she wasn’t babbling.  
  
“I can’t help you until you stop crying and start thinking straight,” he told her.  
  
She looked up, and stepped away from him. She felt ashamed by her behaviour. “I’m sorry. I woke up and I couldn’t tell what was real and what was dream. I panicked and—”  
  
“Morgana” he said. “You can’t just wander around screaming hysterically because you had a dream, no matter how scary it was.”  
  
“So you’re saying I should keep it to myself. Even if it could save a life?”  
  
“That’s not what I’m saying,” he said defensively. “It’s okay to tell me, or Gaius, or Gwen about the dream as you do it _without a scene_.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“You need to have a little more faith in me,” he finished. “If you don’t then we’ll both end up at the stake, maybe the same stake.”  
  
“Alright” she said, his criticism changing her feelings from panic to agitation. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”  
  
Merlin nodded.  
  
There was a moment of awkward silence as the two of them stared at each other. Now Morgana had calmed down she realised that she had only done so because she had come into contact with Merlin’s magic.  
  
He managed to hide his magic from Uther and the rest of the world despite the fact he used his little magic tricks every day and he was considerably more powerful than she. A lot of that was because he didn’t run around screaming incriminating clues about himself. Except once when he was trying to save Gwen.  
  
Morgana felt she was showing Merlin up by his association with her. Yet, while thinking about all of that, all she wanted to do was touch him. She wanted to feel the magic again. There was something very comforting about it. There was a connection between them because of it. It was strangely relaxing and, if she was honest, seductive.  
  
“Was it the same dream?” he suddenly said.  
  
“Sorry?” she said, coming out of her daze. “Oh, yes, it was. It was more sensual this time, though.”  
  
“How’d you mean?”  
  
“I saw Gwen, Arthur and Uther again,” she explained. She looked up at him, remembering. “There was something new in the dream too. I saw you throw some money to the floor. And I saw Gawain, lying white and cold, all around him were the sounds of horses.”  
  
Merlin tilted his head, “That’s odd. I thought you said your dream was about fire.”  
  
“It is.”  
  
“So you saw it again?”  
  
“Yes,” she said, her face twisting in disgust. “I could see it burning, and I could smell it. That awful smell of a funeral pyre or a witch burning. The smell of thick smoke and smouldering flesh, painfully burning away…” she covered her mouth. “It was disgusting.”  
  
Merlin leant forward, “Do you think your dream is foreseeing something?”  
  
“I think we need to stop the joust between Arthur and Gawain.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because I saw Gawain in my dream,” she explained. “And he’s going home on Wednesday. The joust is the only thing he’s doing this week.”  
  
“But isn’t your dream foreseeing an actual event in winter?”  
  
“I don’t know—I suppose,” Morgana stopped and stared at him. “How do you know it takes place in the winter?”  
  
Merlin cleared his throat awkwardly, “When I touched you—you were thinking about it—and I sort of… saw it.”  
  
She scowled, “You were reading my mind!”  
  
“Not intentionally,” he said defensively. “Sometimes when I touch people who are… magically sensitive… I pick up emotions and thoughts they are having. I don’t make a habit of rooting in people’s minds.”  
  
The two of them stood in silence. Merlin changed the subject: “That’s where we need to start. It’s winter and there is fire. That’s the most important factor of your dreams. What do you think that is foreshadowing?”  
  
Morgana nodded, “My worst fear is another purge.”  
  
“Like the one twenty years ago?”  
  
“Yes,” she replied. “It happened the year I was born. My father always tried to convince Uther to be easy on those who practised magic, and only punish those who had used it for evil. He wouldn’t listen.”  
  
“There were purges in my country too the same year” Merlin replied. “Our king did it because of pure hate, not because of a personal vendetta. It happened the year before I was born though. Lucky me, eh?”  
  
“I’d never forgive myself if another purge broke out,” Morgana said. “And I didn’t try and stop it.”  
  
“Maybe we should wait and see what happens,” Merlin suggested. “We don’t know what the dreams mean for sure yet. Even if it is a purge you foresee, it doesn’t explain why you keep seeing Gwen and Arthur.”  
  
The lady nodded. She wanted to take her mind off the dream, and moved on to Arthur and Gwen. “Speaking of whom…”  
  
“I take it you know, then?”  
  
“That she rejected him, yes.”  
  
“It’s not fair.”  
  
“Arthur’s a big boy, he can take it.”  
  
“I didn’t mean that” Merlin said. “I meant the only reason Gwen refused him is because she doesn’t see how the two of them will work it out. It’s not fair because if it wasn’t for society there would be no stopping them.”  
  
“It’s not society,” Morgana said. “It’s the fact Arthur is a prince. That’s why Gwen is being cautious. I personally admire the fact that she won’t be used as his plaything. There are plenty women around here that wouldn’t think twice about their virtue if Arthur looked twice at them. It’s quite pathetic, really.”  
  
“I think Arthur is taking it worse than you think. I look at him, and sometimes he’s his normal, pratty self and other times…”  
  
“…He’s walking around feeling sorry for himself?”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
Morgana sighed, “I don’t think she’ll be able to hold out much longer; she really loves him, so much it hurts her. And if I know Arthur he’ll never give up, even if it takes forever.”  
  
A terrible feeling came over them in that moment. They both knew that Morgana’s dreams were eerily accurate when it came to foreseeing catastrophes. The dreams were horrific and not only left Morgana in a cold sweat but also feeling sickened by what she had seen. As if it were real. So if her dream was anything to go by _right now_ the outlook didn’t seem bright for Arthur and Gwen.  
  
“I need to be going now,” Merlin said all of a sudden.  
  
“Yes, Gwen will be here soon.”  
  
“I’ll see you later at the tournament.”  
  
Morgana nodded, “Do you think I should mention something to Gawain, or Arthur?”  
  
“If you want,” Merlin replied. “But be careful because Gawain might say something to Uther without thinking.”  
  
“You’re probably right,” she said quietly before smiling. “It’s probably nothing anyway. And I’m sorry again for earlier. I overreached.”  
  
“It’s alright,” Merlin said, returning the smile. “I would have done the same, probably. I’m sorry if I snapped at you.”  
  
She nodded, and watched as he quietly went out the door.  
  
-  
  
Gwen walked into the palace through the kitchen doors where she found some of the kitchen boys, male domestic servants, and male outside servants around the big table in the middle, spreading their money out. They were placing their bets; a common thing for these men to do whenever there was tournament. Chances are you would find someone daring enough to bet against Arthur winning all of his challenges. This usually resulted in them losing their money, but the odds were higher on betting against him if the fates were against him.  
  
But this time there was the interesting combination. In the jousting there was to be a challenge between Prince Arthur and Prince Gawain. The servants didn’t know much about Gawain other than he was good. The servants from Orkney boasted of his talents as a warrior and abilities to be a future king – but you could never trust foreigners.  
  
In the corner she found Gregory talking to Merlin.  
  
“I put money on a draw,” he told Merlin.  
  
“Oh,” Merlin replied. “Do you think Gawain isn’t good enough to get Arthur off the horse?”  
  
“No, just wishful thinking” Gregory replied. “I think it would be interesting to watch to royal princes go flying off their horses and injuring themselves.”  
  
The two boys turned and smiled when they saw Gwen.  
  
“How are you doing today?” Gregory asked. “Life treating you well.”  
  
Gwen tilted her head, “Well enough, thank you, Gregory.”  
  
Merlin smiled, “Are you feeling alright?”  
  
Gwen knew he was thinking of Arthur when he said this. She nodded and smiled, “Yes, I’m fine. In fact I made a very important decision today.”  
  
“Good for you,” Gregory said.  
  
“What is it?” Merlin asked.  
  
“Nothing you need to worry about,” she told him, still smiling. “It’s just something that is… important to me.”  
  
Merlin grinned, “Well, that’s the best kind—”  
  
He trailed off as he saw one of the older servants Edgar walk over to where the dog that had puppies was suckling them with a sack. There were only two of them. He reached out and took one, ready to bundle it into the sack.  
  
“Hey!” Merlin said angrily. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Getting rid of them,” the old man replied. “We won’t be needing any more of these mutts for a while. All the dogs we have are young.”  
  
“By ‘get rid of them’ you mean—”  
  
“Get rid of them.”  
  
“That’s not fair” Merlin replied. “They didn’t ask to be born.”  
  
“None of us do,” Edgar said, unfeelingly. “You young ones are all the same. It’s the facts of life. I used to care about things like pups and cats and things but I learnt to deal with the fact that God made us superior.”  
  
Merlin glared at him, saying under his breath: “Be grateful your God didn’t make the dogs a superior species.”  
  
“What was that?” the old man said.  
  
“I was just saying it seems unfair to kill animals on a holiday” Merlin said. “Why don’t you do it tomorrow? I need to take the dogs out for a walk anyway.”  
  
Edgar rolled his eyes and dumped the puppy back into the basket, “Alright. No harm in waiting until tomorrow I suppose.”  
  
Merlin gave him one last harsh look before putting the blanket over the dogs before returning to Gwen and Gregory. His face changed almost immediately from stormy to cheerful again. Gwen sighed; she remembered the first time she had seen Edgar get rid of a litter. She had done the exact same thing.  
  
“As I was saying,” Merlin said. “Decisions that are important to you personally are the best kind of decisions.”  
  
-  
  
The crowds of people were cheering mindlessly as the minstrels and the jesters made their way along the streets entertaining the children who rushed to and throw as their parents wandered slowly behind, laughing. In the centre of town there were people playing instruments, leaping up and down for the adoring crowds as Uther made his way to sit in the royal box with a stoic look on his face.  
  
Elsewhere to one side Arthur preparing for the sword competition by Merlin. His only challenge was with Sir Dinadin, so it was a reasonably easy challenge. He knew the only reason he was fighting him was because he pulled the short straw, literally. Merlin told him the other day that he had seen all the knights gather in the courtyard to decide which lamb would be led to the slaughter.  
  
They wanted to avoid humiliation where they could.  
  
The only real challenge was the joust. Arthur was, in all honesty, kicking himself for not paying more attention to working on a horse. He was certain the only reason Gawain hadn’t got him off his horse earlier was because he was on Gawain’s horse. That and he had the humiliating feeling that Gawain was ‘going easy’ on him.  
  
“Nervous?” Merlin asked, handing him his sword.  
  
“I hate that question, Merlin.”  
  
“Oh, sorry.”  
  
Arthur sighed and looked ahead while Merlin tugged at his tunic. Out of the crowds it took a moment for his eyes to focus. When they did he saw Gwen coming towards them out of the crowds. It took him a while to realise she was actually walking towards him. When he did realise his heart felt as if it had been dropped on the floor. He tried not to let it show but Merlin could tell by the way he tensed up against him while he straightened the armour.  
  
Gwen stopped in front of him and smiled, “Good afternoon, sire.”  
  
He stared at her before he realised she had spoken. “Oh, yes, good afternoon to you too, Guinevere.”  
  
The pair of them stood in silence for a moment looking at each other. It felt like there was a sheet of glass between them. They couldn’t reach out and touch each other… but that didn’t make the longing any less real.  
  
“Do you want me to go away?” Merlin suddenly said, breaking the silence.  
  
“Oh, you don’t have to,” Gwen said quickly.  
  
She turned to Arthur.  
  
“I just…” reaching into a breast pocket she brought out a simple white handkerchief. “I know you are nervous about going up against Gawain in the joust… and that’s fine… I just thought you might want to carry this for luck.”  
  
Arthur reached out and took it.  
  
“It’s not much,” she quickly added, shyly, uncertainly. “But I thought you might want… something.”  
  
He held the kerchief in his hand. It was still warm from her body. As he held it a strange feeling overtook him, a feeling that told him he could do just about anything. If he had the support of Guinevere, he truly _could_ do anything.  
  
He tucked it into his tunic and smiled. “Thank you, Guinevere.”  
  
Taking a daring risk, he looked around to make sure no one was looking, reach over to cup her cheek and kissed it chastely. But when she felt his lips on her cheek Gwen felt as if she might disappear into the ground or evaporate into thin air. Arthur on the other hand was just grateful that she didn’t withdraw or be taken aback by his behaviour.  
  
Gwen couldn’t help chuckling before she walked off, “Yes… well… um…good luck!”  
  
Arthur smirked and watched her awkwardly walk backwards, keeping her eyes on him. She nearly backed into a group of people in doing so. Once she was gone Arthur turned to see Merlin grinning too. He was so pleased with himself.  
  
“Shut up, Merlin!”  
  
“I didn’t say anything!”  
  
-  
  
As could be expected the sword fight was a quickie by Arthur’s terms. He knew exactly how Dinidan fought, and since he wasn’t the best knight on foot anyway, he was easy to overcome. When he did the crowds still cheered although they expected it to run that way anyway, and he even let his gaze wander to Gwen who cheered enthusiastically with everyone else.  
  
For some reason hers felt more genuine. Maybe that was because it was.  
  
When the jousting began everyone cheered excitedly as the horses were paraded around while some of the ‘simple folk’ began to sing traditional songs of summer.  
  
Morgana leant over to Gwen, “I hope Gawain will be okay. He’s supposed to be really excellent on a sword but… well, you know what I’m like.”  
  
“They say he’s good, don’t they?” Gwen said, her voice a little nervous thinking of Arthur going up against him.  
  
“He is good,” Morgana replied. “Arthur was practising with him this morning and according to ‘eyewitnesses’ Gawain knocked him to one side several times.”  
  
“But he didn’t get him off?”  
  
“No, he was going easy on him,” Morgana replied. “Part of me wants Arthur to get knocked off. It might teach him a lesson. He can get very big-headed sometimes.”  
  
“Yes,” Gwen admitted. “But he is nervous about jousting.”  
  
“That’s true,” Morgana agreed. “Well, I’m not expecting him to set the world alight so it’s better to be pessimistic now and be pleasantly surprised when he comes through without being thrown from his horse straight away.”  
  
Gawain put Morgana’s mind to rest as he showed himself to be the brilliant jouster he was in his first two challenges.  
  
The first against Sir Pelleas was over after two attempts to get him off the horse. The first time they were both hit with the lances, but on the second try Gawain got him by a powerful knock to the chest and Pelleas was off the horse straight away. He was unhurt and everyone clapped for him nonetheless as Gaius helped him walk from the track.  
  
The second against Sir Lamorak was over in even shorter time. As soon as their lances crossed, Lamorak’s was caught up in Gawain’s and he was dragged backwards off his horse until Gawain’s lance finally broke and he landed. Gawain dismounted his horse to help Lamorak up, he too more or less unharmed.  
  
Gwen glanced up to look at Uther; he was clearly impressed with Gawain’s skill but equally worried, knowing that the next challenger was his son. She then saw Arthur walk in to meet his challenge while Merlin brought over the horse. Gwen couldn’t help noticing it wasn’t Arthur’s horse he was bringing. She had thought earlier that it looked like his horse that Gawain was riding during the jousts, and she had even admired how well he had handled it. That horse was notoriously ‘jumpy.’  
  
“Good luck,” Merlin said as Arthur mounted the horse.  
  
Arthur looked at him and managed to smile, “Thank you.”  
  
On the horse he reached into his tunic to make sure the kerchief was still there. He held it close to her heart and glanced over to where the courtiers were watching. His father gave him a ‘good luck nod’ and Arthur nodded back.  
  
He then caught eye of Gwen. The feeling of love came over him again, but he told himself not to be distracted by it. He had to just try his best against Gawain… and try and fall gracefully rather than pathetically. He knew he’d never hear the end of it.  
  
He would murder Merlin for accepting the challenge once it was over, win or lose.  
  
Merlin handed him his lance, and Arthur knew it was crunch time. His one comfort was that the horse he was riding had a controlled temperament. Gawain had obviously worked closely with it.  
  
Arthur rode the horse into position while Merlin rushed to the other end to stand next to Gaius, ready to meet Arthur should he manage to get passed the first joust.  
  
He had noticed that Gaius had been watching the games with a sense of dread about him. He kept his eyes on Merlin as he stood there waiting for the joust to start.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
“You haven’t done anything wrong have you?” the old man asked point blank.  
  
Merlin stared at him, “I’ve been on my best behaviour! I haven’t even used magic today… I don’t think.”  
  
“You don’t think?”  
  
“I don’t know. I can’t remember _all_ my actions.”  
  
The horns played and Uther gave the signal for the joust to start. Merlin shut up straight away as the two men’s horses came rushing up towards each other. The young servant watched with his heart in his throat. He knew Gwen was probably feeling the same too. He could tell by the way she was perched on the end of her seat with her hands held together as if in prayer.  
  
The two men met. Gawain wasn’t close enough to knock Arthur off, and Arthur was nowhere near close to knocking Gawain off. The two of them made it to the other side with nothing but broken lances. Merlin dragged over a new one for Arthur, and rushed to the other end of the arena, passing Gawain’s servant as he did.  
  
Once the two men were in position again Uther gave the signal and they went again. This time they went at each other at a tremendous speed. Gwen watched eagerly as the men drew closer to each other.  
  
As the two men’s lances collided Arthur was instantly knocked to one side, hanging on for dear life to his reigns while Gawain, appearing unmoved at all, rode to the other end of the arena.  
  
Morgana gave a polite smile and clap, impressed by Gawain’s abilities and glad he seemed to be winning, remembering the dream she had. Gwen gave a disappointed clap but she told herself that it wasn’t over yet.  
  
The horse Arthur was on circled a little, confused by his hanging to one side, but calmed down as soon as Arthur managed to sit straight again. The only thing that worried Gawain was the horse _he_ was on. Uther had not been kidding when he said Arthur’s horse was untamed.  
  
Gawain threw the broken lance to one side while his servant handed him the new one. Simultaneously Merlin handed Arthur another fresh lance. The weight of it nearly knocked him over. Arthur rolled his eyes and snatched the lance from him. He was determined to see this through now.  
  
Again the servants rushed to the other ends of the arena and awaited Uther’s signal to let the two men go. Uther was pleased his son had managed to stay on so long. He had half expected him to be knocked off the second time.  
  
He gave the signal to go.  
  
Arthur charged at Gawain with all the force he could muster. As the two of them met in the centre, the lance that Gawain was holding hit Arthur right in the chest, throwing him side ways off the horse. He landed with a painful thud on his side and a clang of his armour.  
  
At the same time, however, Arthur’s own lance had rather awkwardly got Gawain in his side. As Gawain fell side ways, trying to hold on to the reins, the horse panicked, reared up, and threw him off backwards. Gawain fell over the railings between one side of the track and the other, and landed on his head in a pile of wood and armour.  
  
Everyone in the crowds gasped in shock. Everyone in the royal box stood to see the two men lying in the dust.  
  
As he was closest, Gaius went up to Arthur first to make sure he was all right. Merlin rushed ahead of him while Gawain’s own servant rushed to his master.  
  
In the royal box Morgana handed Gwen a cup of wine, “Take this to Arthur. I’ll check on Gawain.”  
  
The two women stood up and rushed out of the box towards the two young men. Uther watched as Arthur squinted his eyes, clutching his chest where he had taken a direct hit. Morgana knelt next to Gawain while Gwen rushed over to Arthur, Merlin and Gaius.  
  
“Is he alright?” she asked worriedly.  
  
“He’s fine,” Gaius said, checking where the lance had hit him. “It’s just a bruise. It was more shock than anything.”  
  
Arthur hissed through his teeth, “You try it, then you can judge.”  
  
Merlin glanced over to where Morgana was. A small crowd was gathering around where Gawain had fallen. “I’m just going to check whether Gawain is alright.”  
  
“There is nothing wrong with you,” Gaius assured Arthur, only half-hearing what Merlin had said. “Just give it a few minutes and then get Merlin to help you back inside—”  
  
“Gaius!”  
  
The old man turned to see Merlin motioning him over urgently. Something was clearly wrong.  
  
He turned to Gwen; there was no point in the denying the relationship blooming before his eyes with Arthur and Gwen. He could see by the way she was cradling him, and making a fuss over him despite the fact he’d hardly injured himself. He could tell by the way Arthur swarm in his treatment smiling without a care of who was watching.  
  
Gaius sighed, speaking to Gwen: “Help him up, get him inside and clean his wound with a rag and some water.”  
  
The old man then pulled himself to his feet and rushed over to Merlin, Morgana and the crowd. Something was very, very wrong here.  
  
“Does it hurt?” Gwen asked Arthur as he managed to sit up.  
  
“Not really,” he replied with a brave smile, like a child who had just hurt their knee. “It was like Gaius said; a bit of a shock. I have never felt anything like that lance in my chest my entire life. He was amazing.”  
  
Gwen ran her hand over his cheek, forgetting for a moment she was outside in front of hundreds of people. Her dad was probably watching. She didn’t care, though. She put her arm around Arthur and dragged him to his feet.  
  
On the other side of the arena Gaius knelt beside Gawain. He instantly regretted not seeing to him straight away. He hadn’t realised what a fall the young man had taken. Now it was clear that it had been a lot worse than he had thought. Gawain had not only been thrown backwards off the horse, but it stepped on him once or twice before running on. He had been thrown _through_ the railing, not over it. That was why it fell down.  
  
“Gaius,” Morgana said, her voice a panic. “He’s unconscious and he’s bleeding. I think he may have injured his head.”  
  
This was obvious to Gaius as Merlin held his neckerchief under Gawain’s head. It was already soaked in blood.  
  
Gaius motioned the men with the stretcher over and turned to Merlin, “We have to get him inside right now.”  
  
“Is it safe to move him?”  
  
“Yes, now hurry, help them get him inside.”  
  
The men lay Gawain on the stretcher and carried him away from the arena, with Merlin, Gaius and Morgana following swiftly after them. The crowds watched both horrified and fascinated at the scene unfolding.  
  
Gaius felt a hand grab his arm. He turned to see Uther, looking at his most concerned. “Is he alright, Gaius?”  
  
“Prince Arthur?”  
  
“Prince Gawain,” the king said, his voice croaking. “Is he alright?”  
  
Gaius was uncertain whether this was an uncle’s concern for his nephew or a king’s concern for his kingdom. Either way Uther had every right to be worried. For his beloved late wife’s nephew, the son to her beloved sister, to be injured while his guest was devastating. For a crown prince; first in line to the throne of Orkney and unofficial second in line to the throne of Camelot – it was a disaster.  
  
“I need to see to his head wound immediately, sire” the old man replied. “I’m afraid I can’t waste time.”  
  
Uther nodded, “Of course, do what you need to.”  
  
Gaius followed on, rushing as quickly as his old legs would allow him, after the men carrying Gawain, Merlin and Morgana, who rightfully hadn’t stopped to wait for him.  
  
Arthur and Gwen came up at that moment. Uther turned to Arthur, now truly a concerned father. “Are you alright?”  
  
“Just a flesh wound,” the prince replied. “Is Gawain alright?”  
  
Uther stood silently for a moment. “Gaius is treating him. He should be fine.”  
  
There was a short pause.  
  
Uther spoke again, pointing after where Merlin had rushed off with Gaius, “Your servant has—”  
  
“Gaius needs him more than I do right now,” Arthur said quickly. He tried hard not to look at Gwen as he spoke so as not to give away anything to his father. “I’m fine. Gaius has asked Gwen to nurse my wound so I’ll be fine.”  
  
Uther nodded absentmindedly, his thoughts clearly on Gawain. He gave orders for the entertainers to carry on with their acts for the crowds while he planned to return to the castle and await news on Gawain.  
  
He waved his hand to let Arthur and Gwen go and the pair of them walked off. They silently walked towards the castle, arms around each other. As they did you wouldn’t have taken them for a servant aiding her prince. They looked more like an old couple, clutching to each other, hip to hip, with nothing but each other to hold on to.  
  
And they savoured every moment.


	20. Chapter 20

Gawain was taken straight to his chambers and laid on the bed. Merlin had tied his neckerchief around the prince’s head. Gaius ordered the two men to go and fetch some things from his rooms before asking Morgana to fetch some water. Gaius knelt next to Gawain to assess what had happened to him.  
  
“Is he going to be okay, Gaius?” Merlin asked.  
  
“Fetch me those cloths over there,” Gaius replied. “We need to stop the bleeding from the outside before we do anything else.”  
  
Merlin obeyed and handed him the cloths. But he wasn’t finished, “This is my fault, isn’t it?”  
  
“What do you mean ‘your’ fault?” Gaius asked.  
  
If anything this is my fault, Gaius thought.  
  
The dragon had warned him something would happen at the joust, that Arthur shouldn’t joust with Gawain. He still didn’t see how Merlin’s destiny would be affected by it other than it involved Arthur. Gaius had taken the dragon’s words to mean that it would be _Arthur_ who would be badly injured. That was the real reason why he had checked Arthur first. He hadn’t even stopped to think the damage might come to Gawain. It was foolish of him.  
  
“I should have kept my head low at the masked ball,” Merlin said guiltily. “I should have avoided Gawain at all costs.”  
  
“You weren’t to know this would happen.”  
  
“Morgana saw this in her dream,” Merlin said suddenly.  
  
“What?”  
  
“She saw Gawain lying white and unmoving in a dream last nigh—”  
  
Morgana rushed in at that moment with the water. “Here. How is he?”  
  
“If you could clean out his wounds, Morgana,” Gaius said, avoiding the question. “It would be a wonderful help.”  
  
Morgana did as she was told, clearly shaken by what she was seeing. She had seen this coming, and hadn’t been able to stop it. Merlin felt a coldness coming off her from where he stood. Part of him felt, in that moment, she was blaming him. She might have stopped this had he told her not to say anything. It was a horrible feeling.  
  
Gaius took Merlin to one side. His face was filled with pending gloom.  
  
“What is it?” Merlin asked, knowing at the back of his mind what was coming.  
  
The old man sighed, “There’s not much I can do, Merlin.”  
  
Merlin blinked, the water in his eyes burning them, “What do you mean?”  
  
Gaius shook his head, “I can’t stop the bleeding.”  
  
The young man took a panicked breath of air. The guilt was burning straight through him now. He should have listened to Morgana, or done something more to stop the joust. He should have never agreed to pretend to be Arthur at the masked ball. This was his fault. Even if it wasn’t, it felt like it. That was the worst thing.  
  
Merlin went up to Gawain’s bedside. He was only faintly breathing. Morgana had her hand over where his fatal injury was. She glanced up to give Merlin a dismissive and almost accusing look with her sharp blue-green eyes.  
  
Suddenly, Merlin knelt beside Gawain’s bedside and cupped his face between his hands. Gaius moved forward quickly, “Merlin, don’t!”  
  
“I have to do something.”  
  
“Those men will be back in a minute. If they see you—”  
  
“If it could save his life—”  
  
“Merlin!”  
  
Merlin ignored him.  
  
He closed his eyes and began to whisper the words of a spell. He did it so quietly that Morgana couldn’t tell what he was saying. His mutterings were meaningless to her and yet they felt as if they should mean _something_. She watched with apprehension as this enchantment went on, and on, and on.  
  
After a while, once she had heard the words a few times, Morgana closed her eyes and began to chant with Merlin. All Gaius could do was watch. It was strange; this was a duo that he had fought to keep apart, fearing what the meeting of two minds such as theirs would do. Right now, though, watching them he hoped they would succeed.  
  
Eventually Morgana gave up. She moved her hand away from the wound and sighed. She listened as Merlin kept trying and trying. After a moment she realised he was no longer saying the spell; he was talking to Gawain.  
  
“Please, please” he said. “Wake up.”  
  
Gaius placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, “Merlin, stop now…”  
  
Merlin opened his eyes. At that moment Morgana looked up and saw them. They seemed to be invisible to Gaius but she could see them clear as day. It was the yellow eyes. She watched in shock as they shone. Then they were gone. They were Merlin’s eyes again.  
  
There was a small groan.  
  
Morgana’s eyes moved from Merlin to Gawain. The young prince opened his grey eyes and stared at Merlin. She stumbled to her feet, knocking over the chair she had been sitting on as she did, backing away in bewilderment.  
  
“Oh my God!” she gasped.  
  
Gaius, befuddled, stumbled over the Gawain to check his wounds. Although still there the bleeding had stopped and there were a few splinters in the back of his head where he had fallen but otherwise no other damage.  
  
“Remarkable…” Gaius said, looking over his shoulder at Merlin. He couldn’t help smiling. “You saved his life…”  
  
Merlin felt a great surge of relief rise through him. He took a deep breath and looked at Morgana. Her eyes were fixed on him. They were filled with wonder, amazement, gratitude, idolisation, and every other emotion he could think of. That was what he wanted. Deep down inside himself, he had done it for her.  
  
“My head is killing me,” Gawain groaned in a sick man’s voice. He had every right to given he was sitting on deaths door moments ago.  
  
“Just relax,” Gaius told him. “You had a very nasty fall. If it’s any consolation it wasn’t your fault; your horse reared up.”  
  
“I fell off a horse in front of my hosts?” Gawain said. “How embarrassing. I don’t remember any of it.”  
  
“Mild concussion” Gaius assured him. He looked over to Merlin, “Go and tell the king that Gawain will recover.”  
  
“I should hope so” Gawain replied. “To die in my uncle’s court would not do at all.”  
  
Morgana looked away from Merlin, and made a nervous smile. “Nice to see you have your sense of humour back.”  
  
Gawain looked at her and frowned, “W-who are you?”  
  
Morgana stared at him. “Sorry?”  
  
The prince smiled, “I was just testing. My sense of humour is defiantly on the road to full recovery, thank you Morgana.”  
  
Morgana sighed, and suddenly came face to face with Merlin again as he made his way out of the door. She stopped him in his tracks, staring into his eyes, as if she were looking for that power again.  
  
Instead she reached out and took one of his hands. The power still surged inside him. She could feel it. It was the most remarkable feeling. She wanted to feel a part of that power again. It seemed to close she was to him, the stronger it got.  
  
As if he were reading her mind he held her hand tighter, brought it up to his lips and kissed it. He was clearly trying to comfort her. He knew how her nerve took over her. Morgana convinced herself in that moment he could read her mind, and he had given her what she wanted.  
  
He opened the door, let go of her hand and disappeared down the corridor, not looking back although he was tempted to. That moment felt as if it had gone on for hours when it had been no more than a few seconds. He had felt that connection too as he lay his lips on her hand. It defiantly got stronger when he did so. He wondered if there was anything else that could be done to make the link stronger. He had felt it when he was using his magic on Gawain. Both of them were touching him and he could still feel her power through him.  
  
Morgana watched as Merlin disappeared out of sight. Her entire body felt weak and confused. Up until then she had completely underestimated the extent of Merlin’s powers. Completely. Now she could see it all. The moment she looked into those eyes she felt a great emotion over come her, and she wanted to swim in it.  
  
Those yellow eyes had been in her dreams before. Many times before and many years before, since she was a child. She couldn’t even remember the first time she had seen them. For a long time she thought they had been cat’s eyes. She had wondered if they belonged to the angel her mother spoke of.  
  
And it was Merlin, all this time.  
  
That meant that something in the world around her knew they would one day meet. Whatever divine force had sent her the dreams she received knew that she would one day come face to face with him. Maybe even her mother had seen them too. She had told her about a guardian angel, someone who would watch out for her. That was all Merlin ever did for people – look out for them.  
  
Gaius watched as Morgana stared down the empty corridor, and realised what the dragon had warned him about. He didn’t know what the fate was but he could tell it lay at the feet of Morgana. What was it the dragon had said: _‘One day the entire story will come together in your head…’_ but clearly not today.  
  
The dragon would be thrilled; this meant he would receive yet another meeting from the old physician.  
  
-  
  
Arthur sat in a chair by the window while Gwen knelt beside him washing the wound out. The lance had only really rubbed off the skin and bruised a small part of his chest. It was a bit embarrassing to think such a small thing had brushed Arthur clean off the horse. The wound was small but nonetheless it stung like most sores did. Gwen rubbing it with her kerchief hurt too, but he was willing to put up with that.  
  
Feeling her hands tend to a wound on his chest felt pleasantly intimate. The tips of her fingers tickled the unbroken skin as they wandered slightly from their purpose. Whether this was accidental or intentional he didn’t care. He wanted to savour every moment of this. He knew that the next moment could see her reject him once again, and he’d never get a moment like this again.  
  
“Gaius was right,” Gwen said as she washed the wound. “It isn’t that bad once you wash the blood away. It’s just a flesh wound.”  
  
“Why does everyone keep saying that?”  
  
“Because that’s what it is.”  
  
She picked up some ointment and rubbed some into the palm of her hands. Arthur tilted his head and smiled flirtatiously, “And what are you going to do with that?”  
  
Gwen bit her lips awkwardly, “I was just going to rub some of it on your chest, sire.”  
  
“Don’t call me—”  
  
“But if you’d rather do it yourself—”  
  
“Guinevere, stop being a servant for five minutes…”  
  
Gwen stopped talking immediately. Arthur could say her name in a way no other person could. Every time he said her name it sent a shiver through her, from the tips of her toes to the hairs on her head, a shiver that told her to shut up and listen. It was one of the many things he could hold her attention with. Once more he _knew_ that he could get her attention by doing it, and that was why he very rarely called her ‘Gwen’ these days.  
  
Gwen sighed, “Yes, Arthur.”  
  
He smiled, happy she had used his name. “I refuse to let that ointment anywhere near me until you start treating me like an actual person instead of slave master.”  
  
Gwen looked at him before breaking into a smile, “Alright. Then maybe you can rub it on.”  
  
“No,” Arthur said grabbing her hands and bringing them to where the wound was, “it’s on your hands now. We don’t want to waste it do we?”  
  
Awkwardly Gwen began to rub the ointment on the wound. Arthur hissed a little from the sting but managed to keep his eyes on her the whole time. He rolled his eyes, “It’s so typical – as a servant you would have done this without a second thought. As soon as I make you an equal you’re awkward.”  
  
“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”  
  
Arthur smiled, “What the rubbing or the friendly banter?”  
  
Gwen now rolled her eyes, unable to stop a laugh, “You’re terrible!”  
  
They both chuckled quietly before they fell into a silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence but a ‘meaningful’ silence. A silence where they had many things they wanted to say but not knowing what to say first, who would should speak first.  
  
“I love you,” the prince said softly, as if his thoughts had been spoken without him realising.  
  
Gwen finished putting the ointment on the sore and got up to wash her hands. Arthur watched her as she walked around the room, carefully washing her hands, gently drying them. The pain in his chest still burning with pain, but it was his heart, not his wound, which was the pain.  
  
“Do you mind bringing the wine flask over here?” he asked. “I need something to dull the pain.”  
  
Gwen automatically obeyed and set it on the table beside him. Returning to her awkward station of servant she even poured it out for him automatically, and then moved to stand to one side. This was the moment Arthur grabbed hold of her wrist, firmly by gently. It sent a hot flush through the whole of Gwen’s body. She wondered if he realised the power he had over her.  
  
“Sit down” he ordered, in a princely way.  
  
“No, it’s alright…”  
  
“Please,” he said again, now sounding more genuine, “I want you to.”  
  
Gwen did as she was told slipped into the chair beside him. Her hands crossed on her lap she sat looking at him as he took a drink. He took it away from his lips and placed it down. He looked both irritated and anxious.  
  
“I hope Gawain is alright,” he said suddenly.  
  
“I could go and check on him if you’d like.”  
  
“No” Arthur said quickly, realising that meant she’d have to leave the room. “I’d rather you stayed here.”  
  
Then came the silence again. The lack of knowing what to do was driving both of them insane. There was such a restraint on them. All he wanted to do was just grab her and kiss her, but a voice inside him told him he couldn’t. Never had he listened to the voice before but right now he wouldn’t dare disobey it.  
  
He let out a frustrated sigh, “God help me, Guinevere! I’m going _insane_.”  
  
She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”  
  
He leant forward, looking straight into her eyes, “Please, tell me what I have to do. Tell me what I have to do to convince you that I truly do love you. Tell me what you want me to do to convince you that my attentions are honourable. There has to be _something_. There _has_ to be!”  
  
She almost didn’t recognise him in that moment. He was practically begging her for an answer, something the prince wouldn’t do. She hated what her worrying was doing to him. She realised then that her worrying about herself, her honour, and her reputation was selfish. After all they had been through he deserved the benefit of the doubt.  
  
But it wasn’t the case of ‘the benefit of the doubt’ – it was certainty of the honesty. She knew Arthur was telling the truth and it was her shyness that prevented her from answering.  
  
She reached out and touched his cheek. In that moment they relived moments they experienced in the courtyard the night before last. He truly was touchable, had textures and was a person. He was a real person, not just a prince. She closed her eyes and all kinds of thoughts rushed through her head, innocent and dishonourable thoughts. But she just didn’t care any more. He had her where he wanted her but she also had him where she wanted him too.  
  
He moved forward while her eyes were still closed and kissed her. She didn’t open her eyes when he did, instead placing her hands to his face to bring him closer. It was like the first spark of true contact, and they couldn’t get enough. The longer the kiss went on, the more hungry and desperate it became. The less chaste it became, the more sensual it became, and there was no telling how it would end.  
  
Merlin burst into the room without knocking, as per usual.  
  
They pair broke the kiss in shock, throwing the other back in their chair, feeling exposed and awkward. Merlin stood feeling understandable awkward too, although he conceded that he could have walked in on much worse.  
  
Arthur leaped to his feet and charged towards Merlin. He was furious, “Merlin, how many times do we have to tell you. **Knock** before you enter a room!”  
  
“I’m sorry,” he replied, out of breath from running and embarrassment. “I just came to say that Prince Gawain is okay.”  
  
“Oh thank God,” Gwen said, feeling a little sorry for Merlin. “Have you told the king yet?”  
  
Merlin shook his head. “No.”  
  
Arthur waved him off, “Then you best run off and tell him. Chop, chop.”  
  
The young servant could help a snort of laughter. He knew they were just trying to get rid of him. “Yeah, right. I’ll tell the king.”  
  
As he left, Arthur was still annoyed at him. “When I get my hands on him a wring his neck!”  
  
“Still, at least Prince Gawain is alright.”  
  
“I never doubted he would.”  
  
Gwen slipped her hand into his a smiled. “Neither did I.”  
  
The pair of them regarded each other for a short moment before Arthur kissed her again. This time it was with considerably more ease and certainty. The last time he was half expecting her to push him away. Part of him worried even then she would push him away and start to babble about society and their positions. Damn their positions.  
  
Gwen was half expecting herself to push him away. But she just didn’t have the strength to. Feeling him against her, the warmth of his body, the heat of his heart, and the tender feeling of his tongue caressing the walls of her mouth, she was completely over powered by two feelings. The first was her love, her overpowering love, which was like nothing she had ever felt before. The second was a new awakened desire, a shameless longing for him that weakened her muscles and overpowered her.  
  
“I love you,” she said, finally breaking away from him. “And I don’t know what to do about it. I’d be a fool if I didn’t think about the consequences.”  
  
Arthur sighed, and cupped her face in his hand, “We’ll worry about that part when we come to it.”  
  
“But where do we go from here?”  
  
“We’ll just keep going,” he told her. “Just keep going until we stop.”  
  
-  
  
After Gawain was settled Gaius went home to collect some more painkillers to soothe the pain in his head. The panic was over and everyone in the court relaxed upon hearing both prices had escaped their falls scared but still kicking. He was glad to get home after what had been a very busy and tiring day. As soon as he reached his chair he fell into it with a great sigh.  
  
He thought about earlier and that moment that had passed between Merlin and Morgana. In that moment the two of them seemed to acknowledge the other’s abilities, and for the first time Morgana had seen with her own eyes how far Merlin’s powers went. There was a deep wonderment inside her as she had come face to face with it, and she loved it. He didn’t want to admit it but it a way she had reminded Gaius of someone.  
  
Nimueh.  
  
Her attraction to power was almost poisonous. Gaius had seen it with his own eyes twenty years ago. She fed off the power she had, and when no one indulged her for it, she turned her desires to hate and began to murder all that was good. But Morgana, Gaius told himself, would never go that way. She was too good. And with Merlin’s help, he thought, she will learn to accept what she is and use it for good.  
  
He heard a bark from Merlin’s room.  
  
He opened his eyes and looked over, wondering if he’d brought another statue to life. He could hear Merlin hushing the creature. Gaius stood up to investigate. He climbed the stairs to Merlin’s room and knocked on the door.  
  
“Merlin.”  
  
There was a clutter as Merlin came and opened the door. He made a guilty smile, “Hello, Gaius. How’s Gawain?”  
  
“He’s fine” Gaius replied. He looked over his shoulder. “Merlin, why do you have a dog in your room?”  
  
He shrugged, “What dog?”  
  
Behind him there was a bark.  
  
Gaius smiled smugly, “That dog.”  
  
Merlin sighed and opened the door to let Gaius in. The old man walked in to find, in the corner, the female dog that had given birth and her two puppies. He turned to Merlin, “Why are they in here?”  
  
“Because otherwise that old coot in the kitchen with drown them in a well,” Merlin replied. “And that’s not fair.”  
  
Gaius sighed, “Oh, Merlin!”  
  
“What harm will they do?” he asked. “Once they’re big enough I’ll just give them away to people who need a dog. Lonely people, people who need them for hunting or something. Everyone needs a dog.”  
  
Gaius rolled his eyes, “That’s all very well but it still means we’re going to have dogs wandering around the house until you get to that stage. And I know you – you’ll get too attached to them. You’ll give them names and…”  
  
“Fine,” Merlin said, folding his arms. “Then take them away and drown them yourself because I’m _not_ putting them back in the kitchen.”  
  
Gaius sighed, “I never said they couldn’t stay here…”  
  
The young man’s eyes brightened up straight away. “Seriously, you don’t mind?”  
  
“Does it matter whether I mind or not?” Gaius said. “Bring them into the front room. It’s warmer there. But they are only staying here until you find people to take them, alright?”  
  
Merlin nodded, picking up the basket.  
  
Sitting in the front room in front of the fire eating their dinner Gaius felt tempted to ask Merlin about his relationship with Morgana. How much did she know about him and how much had she told him. But would Merlin tell the truth? No.  
  
“You ought to be congratulated,” Gaius said suddenly.  
  
“For what?”  
  
“Those puppies aren’t the only lives you’ve saved today,” the old man replied. “You saved Gawain by stopping his bleeding with magic. That is something remarkable. I’m fast becoming obsolete.”  
  
Merlin shrugged, “It was no different from when I saved Uther.”  
  
“Nonetheless,” the old man said with a smile. “Well done.”  
  
Merlin smiled too, happy to take to compliment. “Thanks, Gaius.”  
  
“I think Morgana was grateful too.”  
  
Merlin cleared his throat, “Think so?”  
  
“Gawain is like a cousin to her and you saved him when I couldn’t,” he explained. “I could tell she was amazed.”  
  
“Well,” Merlin began, thinking about earlier. “I felt as if it was my fault. Gawain nearly died and it was my fault. I felt guilty about not listening to her dream, so I needed to at least try…”  
  
“And you succeeded.”  
  
Merlin smiled again, “Yeah.”  
  
Gaius picked up a bottle of liquid, “I need to take this to Prince Gawain.”  
  
“I’ll take it,” Merlin said quickly, taking the bottle. “You’ve been on your feet all day, it’s no trouble.”  
  
-  
  
“You gave us quite a scare, earlier,” Uther told his nephew with a smile.  
  
Gawain chuckled. His head was still sore from the fall but otherwise he was feeling much better. He also felt very popular while lying in bed as several knights and ladies had come to wish him well while he had been conscious.  
  
“I didn’t mean to scared anyone,” Gawain said. “I just lost my balance on the horse and fell off. I’m more embarrassed than hurt, uncle. I’m dreading going home now. My brothers will never let me live it down.”  
  
Uther laughed. Beside the bed also was Arthur who was listening to the conversation, only occasionally finding time to butt in.  
  
“If it makes you feel better we won’t tell them how it happened,” Arthur said.  
  
“Ah, now that would be lying.”  
  
“There is no harm in a little white lie.”  
  
“My mother will wonder where I got this,” he said pointing to the gash on his head. “She’ll drag it out of me, master of conversation that she is.”  
  
Uther nodded, “Sounds like Anna.”  
  
“It’s funny,” Gawain said, changing the subject, “but Morgana warned me to be careful during the joust.”  
  
“Did she?”  
  
“Yes, just a small ‘be careful’ before I went out” he explained. “Said it was ‘woman’s intuition’ and she thought I should be careful.”  
  
“Sounds like Morgana,” Arthur said rolling his eyes.  
  
“It reminded me of my sister Elaine,” Gawain said. “She often comes out with things like that. One time when I was going out with father for a hunt she came running out of the castle to warn me that I shouldn’t jump any fences or I might fall off and hurt myself. It was a new horse that I hadn’t worked with before and there was a high fence, and I couldn’t help myself. Fell clean off and broke my ankle.”  
  
Uther smiled, “It sounds like Elaine has good intuition.  
  
“I’d have thought it was common sense not to jump high fences on an untrained horse” said Arthur.  
  
“And you’ve never fallen off a horse in your life,” Gawain teased.  
  
“I was ten years old at the time!” Arthur retorted.  
  
Gawain nodded, “Yes, well, if mother doesn’t get the truth out of me Elaine will.”  
  
The king nodded and grinned. “Your family must come and visit us one time. I would be wonderful to see them all again.”  
  


“You’d have a full castle,” the prince warned him.

“It would be nice to have the whole family together,” Uther said. “Wouldn’t it Arthur?”

“Lovely” Arthur said unenthusiastically. “I _love_ family dos.”

“You should come to Orkney,” Gawain laughed. “It’s a non-stop family do up there.”

  
There was a knock at the door and Merlin stepped in, carrying the medicine from Gaius. He saw Uther and stood still, lowering his head. “Gaius asked me to bring this for Prince Gawain’s head.”  
  
“Right,” Uther turned to Gawain, patting his arm while getting up. “I just came to make sure you were comfortable and to leave this,” he handed him a sealed letter, “with you. It’s the letter I have written to your father.”  
  
“Oh, yes, I remember” Gawain said with a smile. “Just leave it on the side. I’ll make sure he gets it.”  
  
“Feel better soon,” Uther said, and he walked out of the room.  
  
Arthur got up to leave as well. Gawain looked at him and smiled again, “Good to see you looking happier.”  
  
“Am I?” the prince asked.  
  
“Hmm” Merlin said from the door.  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes, “Shut up, Merlin.”  
  
With that he stormed out of the room, giving Merlin a boyish punch in the arm as he did. The door closed and Merlin turned to the prince lying in bed. He stared at Merlin, waiting for him to say or do something.  
  
“Where should I leave this?”  
  
Gawain pointed to the table where Uther had left the letter, “Just leave it on the table.”  
  
Merlin did as he was told and the prince watched him. “Gaius says take it to ease the pain in your head.”  
  
“Thank you,” Gawain said with a smile. As Merlin turned to leave he called out again. “And thank you for what you did.”  
  
Merlin turned around, “What did I do?”  
  
“You saved me,” Gawain replied with a knowing smile. Merlin turned white. “I take it Arthur doesn’t know, then?” Merlin shook his head. The prince looked away, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you… used the ‘m’ word.”  
  
The servant didn’t know what to make of this. First Gaius, then Lancelot, then Morgana, and now Gawain. It was amazing Arthur didn’t have a clue, or Uther for that matter. But those two took Merlin for an idiot so it wasn’t that surprising.  
  
He nodded, “Thank you.”  
  
Gawain nodded too, “I understand why you don’t want anyone to know. I know Uther has been strict on the laws of magic since Aunt Igraine died.”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
“But I know a few people at home who have the gift,” he explained. “I think my sister has a touch of it. Nothing like your powers, of course, just a… sixth sense.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yes, and I’m sure you’ve noticed Morgana has the gift too.”  
  
Merlin nodded again, “Yes, she’s the only one other than Gaius who knows.”  
  
Gawain smiled and winked, “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”  
  
Merlin couldn’t help laughing. “I only wish Arthur was as insightful as everyone else who figured it out! He seems to have the same attitude as Uther about it.”  
  
“He’ll get there eventually,” Gawain assured him. “He just needs to see that magic can be used for good. That time will come, Merlin. And I bet you’ll be the one to change his mind.”  
  
“I certainly hope so.”  
  
“And listen,” Gawain added. “I’ve already told Arthur this but if you never need any help all you need to do is ask. You can find me at Lothian most of the time.”  
  
Merlin titled his head, “I thought you were the Prince of Orkney.”  
  
“My father founded Lothian,” he explained. “So vain he named it after himself. He sends me there to hold court – says it is practise for the real thing. The family spends the winter there as well. It can get very cold in Orkney at Christmas.”  
  
-  
  
“So now you see why I warned you about the joust?” the dragon asked as Gaius appeared in the tunnel entrance. “Now the Lady Morgana knows the extent of Merlin’s gifts his destiny is sealed.”  
  
Gaius was out of breath from walking all the way from home to see the dragon. Now he was to be bombarded with riddles and sayings, and he wasn’t in the mood.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me it would be Gawain who would be injured?”  
  
“Because I didn’t know for certain,” the dragon replied. “I told you. I don’t know everything. I only knew that Morgana would finally come to realise the extent of Merlin’s powers.”  
  
“Gawain could have died if Merlin hadn’t used his magic.”  
  
“I knew Merlin would use his magic,” the dragon told him. “And I knew that Gawain would not die. It is not his destiny to die by a lance during play fighting. He is destined for something far greater.”  
  
“Greater?” Gaius repeated.  
  
“Prince Gawain of Orkney” the dragon announced, spreading his wings. “One day he will be Sir Gawain, of the knights of Camelot under the command of King Arthur. History will know him as Gawain, ‘The Perfect Knight’.”  
  
“The _Perfect_ Knight?”  
  
“He will sit at Arthur’s right hand as the first great knight of Camelot,” the dragon explained. “He will be the first of a few to be declared ‘the greatest knight of all’. He will never marry, dedicating his life to service, and will be Arthur’s chosen heir.”  
  
“What a bright future,” Gaius commented. “Nice to hear someone has.”  
  
“Alas,” the dragon said, scratching the rocks with his claws. “A bright future often leads to a tragic end. The gentleness in Gawain’s heart will be shattered by the ultimate betrayal of another knight.”  
  
“Another knight?”  
  
“The man who will love Gawain the most,” the dragon replied. “He and Gawain will fight a war brought on by this knight’s betrayal and Gawain’s shattered heart. And with his sword this man will cut down Sir Gawain, and his own soul be shattered forever.”  
  
Gaius stared, “I thought it was too good to be true. That you would actually have some good news!”  
  
The dragon snorted, “These events will not be for many years. There is no avoiding them because the paths have already been set. No going back now. Like with that joust.”  
  
“But what harm can Merlin and Morgana knowing about each other’s magic do?” Gaius asked. “Twenty years ago when she was born you told me then to keep her powers secret.”  
  
“And did you listen – no.”  
  
“Why tell me at all when I can’t prevent these things from happening?” Gaius asked.  
  
“Because there is still a chance the future can be made better.”  
  
Gaius stood, waiting for the riddle he knew was coming to come. “Well?”  
  
“The futures of the four young ones in your life is closely intertwined,” the dragon told him. “Arthur with Merlin, Merlin with Morgana, Morgana with Guinevere, and Guinevere with Arthur. Together they will do great things, but apart they will slowly destroy each other. There is a kink in the chain.”  
  
“Who?” Gaius asked.  
  
The dragon was finished for today, and spread his wings to fly away. “You will one day see, before you die, who the kink will be. But that’s all you’ll hear from me for the rest of today.”  
  
He spread his wings and flew upwards, out of Gaius’s sight, but certainly not out of mind.


End file.
